When Times Collide
by mangoaddict
Summary: AU CC. When Max and Liz's daughter comes to the past seeking help, two times collide in a desperate race to save the future.
1. The Stranger

Title: When Times Collide

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: The story is written for Jelsi4life, and therefore at least half of the ideas are not actually mine. Probably more. And credit for the name goes to MysticGohan88. The story starts during _The End of the World_, right after Maria has taken Liz and Alex to the psychic.

Summary: When Max and Liz's daughter comes to the past seeking help, two times collide in a desperate race to save the future.

* * *

Prologue

She stared at the swirling mass of blue energy before her. It sent strange shadows spiraling against the wall of the cave, giving the entire room an eerie, otherworldly look.

Two minutes.

Her stomach twisted into knots. She could only imagine what they would say when they found her missing. In these times, missing could mean so many things, but it most often meant dead. And she had no desire to cause them heartache of grief.

But if this worked...

She had to at least try. She could not give up on this, on the only plan that made any sense. She was not sure she would be able to manage it, but... she had to try. Because the future, her future, all their futures, depended on it.

She placed her hand on the blue energy, felt it rush into her body, felt herself being pulled apart and reassembled inside the glowing cone. She was nothing now, just matter not quite formed into a human, just energy and spirit about to break through the confines of traditional time.

To the past.

To their only hope.

"God help me," she whispered, a fervent prayer, and the last thing she saw was the cave crumbling around her until...

A void. Nothingness. Black eternity, endless.

_God help us all._

* * *

Chapter One: The Stranger

"Seriously, Max, when a girl blows you off just after you've confessed your deep and undying love for her..." Maria began as she dropped into a seat next to the hybrid king and stared moodily around the Crashdown.

"I know, I know," Max muttered. "Take the hint. Just let her go." He rested his chin on his hand and gave Maria a thoughtful stare. "Have you given up on Michael yet?"

Maria rolled her eyes at him. "Please. I have Michael eating out of my hand. He's begging me to take him back."

Max barely restrained the laugh that threatened to gurgle from his throat. The idea of Michael ever begging anyone for anything was ridiculous. The taciturn alien might return to Maria, and there was certainly no doubt in Max's mind that that was exactly what his friend wanted to do. But it would be in his own way and at his own time, and not because of Maria's constant nagging and phone calls.

Instead, he asked, "Is that what your fortune teller told you?"

Maria grimaced. "That phony doesn't know what she's talking about," she huffed impatiently, and rose to her feet. "You want to wallow in pity, do it by yourself!" And without another word, she stormed away.

Max frowned at her retreating back, then shook his head with a sigh. He would never understand Maria, no matter how hard he tried.

"I think you might have upset her," a voice said dryly, and he looked up to find Alex standing next to him, leaning on the booth.

"What did the fortune teller tell her?" Max asked curiously.

Alex slid into the seat opposite and replied, "That she has forty-eight hours with Michael and then it is all over."

"Over?" Max repeated. "I didn't realize it had even begun again." He looked down at the table. Liz wasn't working today. At least if she had been working he would have been able to catch a glimpse of her... Now he would have to wait to see her until school the next day. Unless he went to her window...

He winced with the realization that he now sounded like a stalker.

But he wasn't a stalker. He was the boy who was madly in love with her. And she loved him back, he knew that. So why did this have to be so difficult. What was stopping them from being together when it was what they both wanted?

As if on cue, the bells on the door of the diner jingled, and Tess stepped into the room. She scanned the place quickly, her eyes landing on Max and Alex. She offered them a quick smile and Alex, never one to show any negativity towards anyone, smiled back. Max just stared at her, unsure what to think. There was the twisting of something in his stomach, a guttural feeling of tension and chemistry that lingered in the air around Tess like a perfume. But it was not love.

And she was not Liz.

He pushed himself away from the booth and stood up. "I need to see Liz," he announced to Alex, even as Tess made her way towards them. He brushed past her, barely giving her a second look, and did not see the momentary hurt that passed through her eyes as she watched him go.

"Give up," Alex advised, rising to his feet as well. Tess turned sharply towards him, and he shrugged. "You won't get in between those two. Max and Liz were made for each other."

Tess frowned but said nothing, and Alex wished he could read what was happening behind her emotionless blue eyes. But he couldn't, and a moment later she excused herself and walked over to another table to talk to Kyle and a few of his friends. He watched her go, lost in thought.

* * *

Liz stared at herself in the mirror, a little unsure. The entire day had left her unsettled and she silently reprimanded herself for letting Maria drag her to this psychic, this fortune teller. But the woman had said that Max would choose love, choose her...

She found herself smiling slightly, even knowing this was not supposed to happen, even knowing that he was destined to be with Tess, even knowing that she could not stand in the way of his duty. Still...

He will choose her.

She could almost see herself in that sparkling white wedding dress, hair pulled away from her face in an elegant updo, surrounded by family and friends... the perfect day to start the rest of her life. The small smile on her face spread into a wider grin, and she could not help but think that this future would be absolutely amazing. With Max by her side...

The words left her mouth before she could even think through what she was saying. But it all felt so incredibly right. Like it was meant to be. "I, Liz Parker, take Max Evans to be..."

Outside the window, a crash of thunder interrupted her words, and a sudden flash of lightning lit up the night sky, illuminating the distant hills that surrounded the desert town. Liz turned sharply, eyes widening at the noise, but quickly shook her head, assuring herself that it was nothing but a storm.

She turned back to the mirror. "I, Liz Parker..."

The girl toppled through the window, crashing onto the ground near Liz's feet. Her hair, a dark brown with blonde highlights streaking across the top, splayed out over her face, concealing her features from view. She was shaking, her entire body trembling with the effort of staying conscious.

Liz bit back a scream.

The girl rose to her feet with an unsteady wobble. Her face was pale, but her skin was marred by bruises along her bare neck and arms. She looked exhausted and wary and way too old for her age, all at the same time.

"Who are you?" Liz breathed, already backing away from the stranger. Her eyes quickly scanned the room for anything she might use against a weapon, and she wondered if she should call for her father's help. But what if this girl was an alien, a skin? The last thing she wanted was to reveal the secret to her father, or put either of her parents in unnecessary danger.

But the girl did not seem capable of words. Instead, she stared at Liz, her mouth falling open. The expression on her face could only be described as reverent awe. Her eyes swam with tears of relief and lingering pain and some other emotion Liz could not quite identify.

The girl, Liz realized, was younger than her, although only by a year or two. This, combined with the girl's obvious exhaustion, emboldened the brunette a little, and she said again, this time in a firmer voice, "Who are you?"

"They were right," the girl said finally, the words barely making it past her dry lips. They sounded strained, forced, as though she found it difficult to speak past the lump in her throat. "You really are beautiful."

Liz blinked, thrown by the unexpected comment. "Wh-what?"

"I need your help!" the girl said, suddenly seeming to jolt back to the reality of the situation. Panic filled her features, and she rushed towards Liz. The brunette backed away, and the girl stopped, surprised and hurt. It did not take Liz long to realize the hurt was a direct reaction to the suspicion the waitress was displaying, but why would this girl possibly expect her trust? Or her help?

"What are you talking about?" Liz said again, her voice harsh. A little more harsh than she had intended, and the strange girl winced and dropped her gaze to the ground. Acting on a whim, a feeling Liz could not explain, she said in a more gentle tone, "It's alright. You can tell me."

The girl's eyes snapped up. "You have to help us! You don't know what he's done... everything's so destroyed. He ruined it, all of it. The world, everything..." she stopped, overcome by tears. "You're not there. He took you, too, and I..." Again, she stopped, unable to continue.

"What are you talking about?" Liz asked, not understanding any of what this girl had said. "Who destroyed what?"

"Khivar," the girl whispered, her voice so low it was almost inaudible.

Liz stiffened, freezing. How did this girl know Khivar? Was she a skin? She had to be an alien, there was no other explanation for it. But that still did not explain everything. She slanted a look at the desk. Her desk-light could serve as a decent weapon if she needed to defend herself, but how was she going to get past this alien without attracting suspicion? And what would she do after she escaped? Go to Max?

The girl sagged against the wall, emotionally drained. "I..." She hesitated, then said, "We need you. Don't you understand?"

Liz shook her head. "Understand what? You haven't even told me who you are or why you need me. How can I help you?" She began inching forward, praying silently that this alien would not see her subtle movements, would not realize what she was trying to do. Her gaze flickered to the desk-light and back. She would only have one chance to do this.

"You're the only one who can," the girl whispered. "I need you. I _need _you."

And then she met Liz's gaze.

And Liz froze. Those eyes. There was something about them. They were tired, that much was true, and they had clearly seen too much horror in the past. The weight of the world seemed to rest heavily upon her shoulders, reflected by a seriousness in her eyes that was far too grave for her age. But there was something else about them, something so familiar...

And Liz gasped.

They were Max's eyes.

She heard the voice of the fortune-teller echoing in her head, words she had cherished for those few minutes ringing in the silence - _he chooses love_ - and she knew what the girl would say before the words had even left her mouth.

It was still a shock to hear it.

"You're my mother," the girl whispered. "Our Queen. We need you." A pause, then, "I need you."

"No... no, that's not... it can't... how?" Liz gasped, unable to form a coherent sentence. How could her daughter be standing here? She didn't have a daughter. And she was not married to Max. She had not slept with Max. They did not have a child together. This girl could not be _her _daughter. This girl could not be her _daughter_. This girl could _not _be her daughter.

"You don't know what it is like..." the girl murmured, talking more to herself than to Liz. "You don't know, you couldn't understand... I can't do this. I mean, we need you. And Dad. I just... How can we survive without leaders? I can't do this all by myself. I just... can't. I can't!" The last two words were louder, an abruptly hysterical shout.

Liz glanced nervously at the door. Had her parents heard that?

"Calm down, alright?" she said, trying to be soothing. "Please. Calm down. Everything is going to be fine."

The girl swallowed. "Okay," she said simply.

Liz inhaled slowly, worried. The panic was gone now, and the girl - her daughter? - was staring at her with complete and absolute trust. As though she would believe everything Liz said just because she said it.

She shook herself again. This was ridiculous. This girl could not be her daughter. It was just impossible. Logically, rationally, this could not be true.

"I think you might be mistaken," Liz said finally, delicately, not wanting to upset this potentially unstable alien. "I can't be your mother. I don't have a daughter. I'm not married. I haven't given birth. I don't have a child."

The stranger blinked. "Of course you don't. Not yet, anyway. But you will."

"I... will?"

The girl nodded seriously. "In the future."

"Oh." There wasn't a lot Liz could say to that, so she remained silent, her attention now turned back to the desk-light. Maybe it was time to take the chance, to escape from this. To find Max.

She turned away from the girl, and it was just at that moment that the supposed daughter jumped forward and caught her hand, trying to pull her back around. The moment their skin touched, a jolt of electricity rushed through Liz's skin, and suddenly she was cast headlong into a series of flashes she could only barely comprehend.

_"Where is your king? Where is Max?" the man snarled, his face twisted in rage as he advanced on the captive woman. A set of brown eyes stared back at him, fierce and unafraid, and then Liz spat in his face. Next a sharp pain as the noose slid around her neck and a final gasp for air before her life faded and..._

_"Mommy!" A five-year-old was screaming over and over while the adults around her shed tears. "Mommy!" No one was coming. No one would answer that cry.  
_

_The same five-year-old listened from behind a corner as two men argued. "Maxwell, just think..." "I'm done thinking! He took my sister and my wife. And he will pay for it!"  
_

_Now six years old, the girl watched silently as buildings crumpled all around her and the earth trembled beneath her feet. A man stood behind her, holding her tightly, protectively. In his eyes shone the promise that he would not let anyone hurt her.  
_

_At seven, the streets ran red with blood. At eight, the girl felt the harsh slap of a hand against her face and the scream of someone to let her go, to please just let her go!  
_

_Nine-years-old, and she smiled secretively at a boy with curly brown hair. He smiled back.  
_

_The ten-year-old hid behind the corner once again, and listened to another argument. "Michael, please, just be careful! Think about what happened to Max when he went for revenge against Khivar. Think of Isabel. I don't want that to happen to you." And the answering reply, gruff and unyielding, "I know, Maria. But I promised Max I would protect his daughter, I already let her get kidnapped once. We are all in danger now, and I have to protect us."  
_

_Smoke, acrid, burning, hot, flames, fire, blood, screams, tears, pain...  
_

_The girl got older, and the world did not change. More people died, more people grieved, more people struggled to survive...  
_

_"Khivar wants her. She's Max's daughter. She's the true Queen. We have to protect her. We have to keep her safe!"  
_

_Queens lead. They fight. They protect others. They should not be the ones who are protected.  
_

_Crying. Blood. Death.  
_

_The world did not change.  
_

_She would change it. She would save it. She would bring back the true leaders, the ones who could fight back... the ones who could win.  
_

_Screaming, triumphant laughs, mocking words, pain, blood, crying, begging, pleading, fire, ash, embers, earthquakes, disease, poverty, ruin...  
_

_God help us all._

Liz yanked her arm away from the girl and pressed it to her head as the images became so overwhelming that she could barely stand straight. She staggered, shaking, falling to her knees, and finally succumbing to a darkness that removed all the horror she had just witnessed. The last thing she heard was the frantic cry of "Mom!" and then everything went black.

* * *

Max gave a brief smile to Nancy Parker as he walked up the stairs towards Liz's room. He had debated taking the window entrance to avoid seeing her parents, but decided instead to enter the normal way. He wanted this to be normal. He wanted them to be normal. He wanted Liz to accept him as a boyfriend, accept his love.  
He wanted a lot of things, and he knew he wouldn't get most of them. But how could he ever give up on Liz?

He paused outside her room, trying to collect his thoughts, trying his best to come up with some argument he could make for just why exactly she needed to let him give up on this destiny. She had been so adamant, that he needed to do this, needed to be with Tess, but... Didn't she understand that she was his entire world?  
His thoughts were interrupted by a muffled cry of alarm and the sound of something heavy hitting the floor. Without thinking, he shoved the door open and rushed into the room. The scene before him made him freeze with surprise and then fear. Liz was lying on the ground, unconscious but still alive, and a strange girl knelt beside her.

Max flung out one hand with a snarl, "Get away from her!"

The strange girl reacted instantly and a shimmering wall of blue energy appeared in front of her, radiating from her outstretched palm. "Wait," she protested, looking just as shocked at seeing Max there as Max was at her clearly alien abilities, "you don't understand. I'm not..."

"I told you to get away from Liz," Max hissed, and this time his attack caused a ripple in her shield as the two energies met with a great force and a sudden burst of kinetic heat. The girl stumbled backwards, but held her ground gamely, and this only enraged Max further.

"I'm not going to hurt her!" the girl cried, taking a step backwards and nearly tripping over Liz's body.

"No," Max agreed dangerously. "You are not."

Liz groaned, consciousness slowly invading her senses, and she rolled onto her side, her eyes still tightly shut. The girl looked down at her sharply, and the protective shield fell away, giving Max the opportunity he needed. Before she really registered exactly what had happened, she was sailing through the air away from Liz. She crashed heavily into the wall and slid to the floor, stars dancing before her eyes.

"Who are you?" Max asked viciously, moving towards her, "and what do you want with Liz?"

Liz blinked once and opened her eyes. She twisted, pushing her hands beneath her and pulling herself slowly into a sitting position, looking wearily towards the two voices. Max was standing imperiously over the girl who had huddled into a small ball on the floor, looking both frightened and hurt. Not physical pain, but a mental anguish that reverberated all around her.

Max lifted his hand, conjuring a crackling energy, power strengthened by his fury at seeing Liz hurt. "Answer me!" he commanded, but the girl was silent, all words having left her. She simply stared, and Max pointed his hand at her, ready to attack.

Liz acted on instinct, on a maternal feeling she didn't even know she had, and cried out, "Max, no!" But as she reached out a hand to stop him, she felt a spark of electricity rushing just below the skin, and then Max was smashing into the far wall, his expression one of complete shock.

And all Liz could do was stare at her hand and ask in a hushed voice, "What did I do? What _was _that?"


	2. Tale of the Times

Title: When Times Collide

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Summary: When Max and Liz's daughter comes to the past seeking help, two times collide in a desperate race to save the future.

* * *

Chapter Two: A Tale of the Times

The room was silent. Completely and totally silent.

Liz was staring at her hand. It was all she could think to do, simply stare. It was no longer glowing, no flickering lights bursting from her fingertips. But Max was slumped onto the floor, holding his probably bruised ribs, and staring at her with a mixture of concern and fear, and the only thing she could comprehend was that somehow she had done something... different.

Max was the first to break the stunned silence. Looking to the strange girl who was now moving slowly towards Liz again, he asked, "Who are you?"

It was Liz who answered. "She's our daughter, Max."

Max gave her a bewildered look, his tawny eyes narrowed in confusion and disbelief. "Our _what_?" His voice seemed to have raised an octave or two in tone, and he looked so much like a lost child that Liz had to stifle a smile. "How is that... possible?"

"I'm from the future," the girl supplied helpfully, as though that actually made anything more understandable. Max was still staring in total shock, and not even the tiniest bit of comprehension dawned on his features. "Not so far in the future, though," she added, as though hoping maybe this would help explain the situation. "Not even twenty years, I don't think."

Max slanted a look at Liz. "You believe her?' he demanded.

Liz nodded, unsure herself why she was so certain this stranger was telling the truth. "Yes, Max. I do." She could feel it in her gut and she knew that this beautiful girl standing before her was actually her child. Someone she had raised and protected and...

And abandoned, she realized with growing dismay. The girl had spoken about her parents as though they were both dead. Was she really gone? Had she really left her daughter alone in whatever this horrible future was? Was Khivar even now plotting some apocalyptic future in which everything she ever cared about would be gone? Lost to some madman?

"I'm dead," Liz said slowly. "Max and I... we're dead in your future. Aren't we?"

The girl nodded slowly, a look of indescribable anguish in her eyes.

Again, Max repeated, "You believe her?"

Liz nodded, watching as Max opened his mouth once more. She knew he was trained never to accept people as trustworthy, a side-effect of who he was and how he had grown up. But this was their daughter, and as Max's expression betrayed his suspicion, she warned softly, "Careful." He gave her a sharp look, but seemed to understand what she was saying. If this really was their daughter, he would not want to say or do anything to upset her.

"Why were you on the floor when I came in?" Max asked finally, and to his credit, he kept his voice neutral even as he sent a quick look towards the stranger.

"I saw the future," Liz replied, a shudder running through her body as she remembered those flashes. Her head still throbbed from the intensity of it, but even more horrifying was the fact that she had only witnessed it, but her daughter had lived through it. "It was... oh, God, Max... it was horrible." Tears pricked her eyes, but she had to stay strong and present a collected front for her daughter.

Her _daughter_.

Finally, Max seemed to be unbending. He hesitated, then said, "What's your name?"

The girl, surprised by the question, replied after only a brief moment of faltering, "Ava."

Liz blinked. "But... Tess?' she muttered, sending a look at Max. Why would they name their daughter after the person so intent on breaking them apart?

Ava frowned at Liz and asked, "What does Auntie Tess have to do with anything?" She asked the question casually, but there was something in the way she said Tess' name that caught Liz's attention. The brunette raised one eyebrow questioningly, and Ava, seeming to recognize the implied inquiry, said softly, "She's dead, too. But she died before both of you... I never knew her, not really."

"So, it's just Michael, Maria, Isabel, and Alex in the future?" Max questioned curiously.

Again, Ava winced. "I... Auntie Isabel is..." She didn't finish the sentence, but left the obvious conclusion hanging in the silence. Then, brightening, she added, "Oh, but you forgot Uncle Kyle. He is alive."

"Why did we name you Ava?" Max pressed, switching the subject back to her name. He wasn't sure that he could handle hearing about the deaths of all the people he loved. Liz, Isabel... even Tess' death caused him pain.

"After Mom," Ava replied, giving Max a confused look. "Isn't that obvious?"

"But... I thought I was your mother?" Liz said, shaking her head. She had grown so attached to this girl in the few minutes, and to hear that she was actually Tess' daughter...

"You are my mother," Ava answered, now appearing thoroughly bewildered at the puzzled expressions on her parents' faces. "And Max is my father. And if I was a boy, you would have named me Zan. But I wasn't a boy, which was good for Uncle Michael and Aunt Maria..." She trailed off, realizing that no one was paying any attention to her ramblings.

"But Tess is Ava," Max said finally, barely able to force out the words. The thought of him having a child with Tess was so... sickening. It left him with a bitter taste of guilt in his mouth - how could he do this to Liz? He loved her and he would never give up on her. Ever.

"Auntie Tess?" Ava asked in surprise. Then something seemed to occur to her, a look of realization dawning on her features. "Oh... you don't know yet, do you?" She wrinkled her nose in distaste and said, "Another one of Nasedo's tricks. But he's dead now, isn't he?"

The way in which she spoke about death, as though it was commonplace, as though it happened all the time, made Liz flinch. Because it was commonplace in her daughter's future, and the fact that she would have left her daughter alone to face a life of constant loss and pain was more than just a little disturbing. Once again, she felt consumed with failure, as though somehow she should have had the power to stay beside Ava, protecting her even in death.

"Yes," Max answered quietly, frowning slightly, "but why would he trick us?"

Ava blinked. "Well... he did work for Khivar," she replied, surprised by her parents' astounded expressions. "Wait, you didn't know? I thought... I'm sorry," she muttered, seeming abashed. "I just don't know much about this time, or what you know and don't know yet. I guess I'm screwing it all up..."

Max reached out to catch her hand, a question forming on his lips, but as his skin touched her palm, a burst of something rushed through his body, and then images played before his eyes, forcing him to shut them tight against the light and fall to his knees, groaning in pain.

_Khivar was clutching his head, laughing manically as images poured through his fingertips and suffused Max's pain-filled expression. He could see Liz dying, and the others falling all around him, terror and panic and aching pain running rampant. "This is what has happened to them, Max, and what will continue to happen after you die."  
_

_"Ava! No!" Michael screamed as an eight-year-old girl was roughly grabbed by two skins, their eyes holding identical expressions of cruel triumph. The smell of smoke and burnt wood and destruction..._

_  
"Khivar wants her. She's Max's daughter. She's the true Queen. We have to protect her. We have to keep her safe!"  
_

_"What... what is a Queen, Aunt Maria? What does that mean?" "It means you are meant to do great things with your life, Ava."  
_

_The world did not change.  
_

_She would change it. She would save it. She would bring back the true leaders, the ones who could fight back... the ones who could win.  
_

_Death, everywhere, and loss and ruin and...  
_

_God help us all._

When he opened his eyes again, Liz was kneeling beside him, trying her best to steady him. Ava floated around in the background, her expression contrite, apologetic for all the trouble she kept causing.

"Max?"

"Khivar mind-warped me until... until I died," Max whispered, horrified. "I..." He thought, suddenly, of the white room, of Pierce, of all the images he had been forced to watch, images of his family being tortured, of Liz dead... It seemed that regardless of who the enemy was - alien or human - it was his weaknesses, his love of others, that was continually used against him.

He looked at Ava. "You..." But the words caught in his throat, and instead, he said, "You have my eyes."

"I do." Ava smiled, and Max realized that she might have his eyes, but she had Liz's smile.

Max rose to his feet, and gestured for Liz to do the same. He reached tentatively towards Ava, and this time when their hands met, he felt the spark of familiarity, but did not receive any flashes. Both Liz and Ava let out a breath of relief, and Max pulled his daughter over to Liz's bed.

"Here, sit down," he requested. "You need to... to tell us everything. What happened? Why are you here?"

"Okay. I can try." Ava settled herself on the bed, gazing at her parents in adoration, reveling in the fact that they were here, right in front of her, so caring, so strong... so alive. "I mean, I don't know so much about the past. We never really talked about it. Uncle Michael and Aunt Maria didn't... well, after you and Mom and Aunt Isabel and Auntie Tess died... I guess they didn't really want to talk about the past. And then Khivar took over the world, so we had to focus on the present anyway."

"Tell us what you can, sweetheart," Liz prompted. Her eyes widened a moment later as she realized the endearment had fallen so casually, so instinctively, from her lips. But Ava was glowing at her mother's words, and even Max had a slight smile on his lips as he stared at his family.

His _family_.

"Okay. So, um... right. Nasedo was working with Khivar. You... have you guys met Kal yet?" Max shook his head wordlessly, answering in the negative. "Okay. Um... Kal is your real protector, see? Nasedo was... bad. Really bad. He made a deal with Khivar, and he... he wanted power. And to get power, he had to deliver all of you to Khivar. So... he made the book... the Destiny Book. And the hologram that was supposed to be from your mother. They were both fake."

"Fake?"

"Yeah."

"But... why?" Max breathed, feeling more and more confused as Ava's explanation continued. He could very well believe that Nasedo had been working with Khivar, but to have everything he had learned be a complete lie? So... who was he?

"I don't know," Ava admitted reluctantly. "Uncle Michael says that Khivar was always afraid of what would happen if the two of you found each other again. But I don't know why. I don't know what was supposed to happen."

"Again? What do you mean, get together again?" Liz demanded. She knew, although she could not say how she knew, that whatever Ava was about to say would turn her entire world upside-down, would completely rewrite the past she thought she knew.

"You and Dad were together. You know, on Antar. Zan and Ava..." Again, Ava looked confused. "Wait, you don't know that? How do you not know that?"

"Um... Ava, sweetheart," Liz started gently, "I think you must be mistaken. I'm not from Antar. I... I don't know what we told you, but..." she reached out and took her daughter's hand in both of her own, pressing her fingers into Ava's hand, "I'm human."

Ava just stared at her mother for what felt like eternity, before saying in an equally gentle voice, "I don't know what Grandma and Grandpa told you, Mom, but you're not human. You're a hybrid, like Dad. Like me."

"That's not... possible," Liz whispered, shaking her head in denial and jumping to her feet. She began to pace with agitation, her doe-eyed gaze focused solely on her daughter. Why would Ava believe something like that? It just couldn't be true. She was fully human, and the biological daughter of two fully human parents.

"So... you're saying that Liz is really Ava?" Max asked. Although he could hardly believed his daughter's revelation, he at least had enough presence of mind not to contradict her, but instead to try to find out details that might make the entire complicated situation suddenly form something like sense. "And Ava was my wife?"

"Yes," Ava said emphatically. "_Yes_."

"No," Liz retorted. "No, that's not right. I'm not... I can't be, okay? I mean, it's just not... not possible. At all."

Ava bit her lip and sent a desperate look at her father. She really had no idea how to respond to this sort of denial. She had just assumed that Max and Liz would already know all about their past lives, and yet here she was informing them about things she had taken for granted were common knowledge. She ran a hand through her hair, pulling at the strands, wishing she could think of the proper way to explain it all, some way that would make her mother believe her.

Max, seeing the conflicted look in his daughter's eyes, said softly to Liz, "Let's just let her finish the story, alright? We can discuss the particulars after."

"Right," Liz said slowly, as she too noticed how upset Ava seemed. "Okay. Um... I guess, go on with the story."

"I'm sorry," Ava apologized, "I know I'm not telling this the right way. Aunt Maria would be much better at it."

"It's fine," Liz said soothingly, inwardly cursing herself for allowing her distress to affect her daughter so much. The maternal instincts that had come out of nowhere were now berating her for it, because Ava had already spent so much of her life experiencing loss and pain, and Liz was supposed to help the situation, not make it worse.

"Right. So... anyway... Nasedo made this book because... see, Auntie Tess was royalty. Just different royalty. But if she had Dad's kid, then that kid would be royalty as well, because he or she would have come from two royal parents. See?"

"Sure," Max lied, pretending that it all made sense to him.

"Does Tess know about this?" Liz questioned, trying to think over all her interactions with the blonde hybrid. Tess had seemed to have single-minded focus on Max, but that was because she believed they were destined to be together. Had Nasedo lied to her as well, or was she somehow part of the scheme?

"Um... no, I don't think so," Ava said, and her voice grew sad. "Uncle Michael always said that when Nasedo found Auntie Tess in the desert, it was one of the worst things that happened to us. Because he and Khivar... they messed her up. And she was supposed to be an ally, but... I don't really know much about it, though. Uncle Kyle was the one who knew her best, but he never talks about her, not since Khivar killed her."

"Okay, so let me get this straight," Max decided to attempt a summary of what they had just learned, "Liz and I were married on Antar. And then all of us came here, and Nasedo kidnapped Tess and brainwashed her, and then faked all this stuff about destiny so that he could get Tess and I together, and then deliver us to Khivar and use our son as a way to get power?"

"Yes," Ava said happily, pleased that they seemed to be following her story. She did not see the look of utter bewilderment that passed between her parents, and so did not realize that, in fact, they still understood absolutely nothing.

"And then... how did Liz and I... I mean, how did Khivar...?"

Ava blanched and dropped her gaze to the ground, and Liz resumed her seat next to her daughter, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder and trying to offer some form of moral and physical support. Ava smiled shakily, but it did nothing to change the grief in her eyes or to make the haunted expression any less pronounced.

"The war on Antar basically destroyed the planet. So Khivar came to Earth. His skins killed Auntie Tess first, and then they killed Aunt Isabel. After that, he took over. He basically killed anyone who stood in his way... the leaders of all the countries, like the United States and Russia, and England, and China, Japan, and India, and Germany, France, Spain, and Italy. He called Earth his new Antar. You tried to oppose him, but... he killed you. First Mom, and then you, and... everything is just..." She didn't finish. There were no words adequate to describe the horror, no way to impress upon them what it felt like to helplessly watch the entire world crumble around her, falling prey the twisted desires of a madman.

Max slanted a quick look at Liz, but the brunette was wiping her own eyes, trying to keep away the tears, and so did not see Max's expression. The hybrid king looked back at Ava, wishing he could offer something remotely reassuring, but it seemed like all the words were stuck deep in his chest.

"So you see why you have to come with me, don't you?" Ava asked hopefully.

"Come... come with you?" Liz repeated faintly. "Where?"

"To the future," Ava answered with a frown. "You have to help. That's why I came back for you. Khivar was afraid of the two of you. That means you can stop him."

"The future?" Max repeated hoarsely.

Ava nodded, blissfully unaware of the denial, confusion, and stubborn refusal running through her parents' minds. "So, you'll help, won't you?"

"Ava, sweetheart, I don't... I'm not sure I..." Liz faltered, hesitant to dash all her daughter's hopes, but unable to remain silent while Ava babbled on about this ridiculous and unbelievable scheme. And besides, she was not at all convinced that the main premise of this story was true - that she was somehow originally from Antar. "I can't... I mean... my parents would have _told _me if I was adopted."

Ava pushed away from both her parents and rose to her feet. "I'm not lying to you!" she said, tears of frustration appearing in her eyes.

"I'm not accusing you of lying," Liz said quickly. "I'm not, I just..."

"Then why don't you believe me?" Ava asked hoarsely, interrupting whatever Liz had been about to say.

"Because I can't be alien," Liz answered, her voice rising a bit in volume. "I don't have a past life. I don't have powers."

"You blasted Dad just a few minutes ago," Ava interjected softly, and Liz's protests were brought to a halt by that simple truth.

"Liz," Max started, catching her by the elbow and pulling her around to look at him, "I think..." But whatever he thought was never uttered because the moment their eyes met, they were both suddenly propelled into a vision of something else, something incredibly foreign and terrifyingly familiar.

_"Ava! Ava, where are you?" Zan screamed, running down the hallway. All around him, the cries of fear and panic, the blasts of weapons, the creaking of crumbling stone, swallowed his voice. But he could not give up, could not back down, until he found his beloved wife.  
_

_Rath appeared at his side suddenly, the General's eyes darkened. Zan rounded on him, wanting answers, but knowing he had none. Ava had disappeared during the middle of the fight, and that could only mean one thing.  
_

_Khivar had her.  
_

_"She's gone... my wife, my beloved Ava, I..." Zan sobbed, his words catching in his throat even as he tried to hard to deny the truth.  
_

_"Well, well, well... if it isn't the great King," a voice sneered, and Zan and Rath both turned towards the end of the hallway. One of the doors had been flung open, and Khivar appeared, dragging a terrified Ava with him. Her dark hair fell over her face, partially concealing the bruises that marred her pale skin. Her soft brown eyes quickly sought out Zan's face, and even though she was shaking with fear, she tried to give him a reassuring smile.  
_

_"Let her go!" Zan yelled fiercely, his face suffused with red, anger dancing in his eyes.  
_

_"Why should I?" Khivar sneered. "She makes quite a fine trophy in this battle..."  
_

_Ava twisted in his arms and spat in his face. He reached up to wipe the moisture from his cheek as she hissed, "I am not a trophy!"  
_

_"Feisty..." Khivar said with a grin. "But I already have the royal woman I want."  
_

_"Where is my sister?" Zan demanded, although he did not take his eyes from his beautiful bride.  
_

_"Safe," Khivar answered, his words a taunt. Zan and Rath both stiffened in fury, each understanding the fate that would soon befall Vilandra if they could not rescue her from this villain. Khivar saw their helpless rage, and practically cackled with delight.  
_

_"This is not over, Khivar," Rath threatened, taking a few steps forward. "We will destroy you!"  
_

_"Will you?" Khivar asked softly, his words laced with poison and ice. His gaze flickered to Zan, and he said, "You may think you will destroy me, you foolish little king, but I will destroy you first. And I will do it here and now."  
_

_And as soon as he had finished speaking, he placed one hand over Ava's chest, his palm glowing red. The Queen struggled, but could not break from his powerful grasp, and suddenly she was writhing in pain. The blood burst into her throat, gurgling around her lips, and her eyes glazed over as death claimed her.  
_

_Zan stood, paralyzed in horror, before suddenly coming to his senses and charging forward. Khivar flung Ava's body at him, and he caught his beloved wife. She collapsed into his arms, her eyes clouded over with pain, her lifeless body pulling him to the floor. Zan found himself screaming in rage and sobbing at the same time as he found he could detect no heartbeat, no breath, nothing at all.  
_

_She was gone.  
_

"What is it?" Ava asked, shaking Max's shoulders as the two came out of the trance. She looked between both her parents, worried. "What did you see? What's wrong?"

Liz closed her eyes, trying to block out the images, and Max felt his entire body go tense with rage.

In that moment, he knew there was nothing he would not do in order to defeat Khivar.


	3. Back to the Future

Title: When Times Collide

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Summary: When Max and Liz's daughter comes to the past seeking help, two times collide in a desperate race to save the future.

* * *

Chapter Three: Back to the Future

Ava stood with her back to her parents, staring out the window and up towards the night sky. She knew that Max and Liz were discussing her revelations, doing their best to come to terms with all that she had told them, and she felt the tiniest bit of guilt eating away at her insides every time she caught sight of the look of confusion and fear on her mother's face. She wanted to say she was sorry, to take back all that she had forced upon them, but now that she was so close to saving everything... No, she had crossed the line. There was no way to turn back now.

A slight smile tugged at her lips as she thought of her family in the future, and what they would say if they knew where she was. Or rather, _when _she was. She hadn't exactly told them her plans, knowing full well that they would disagree and try to stop her any way possible. Actually, she wouldn't have put it past her Uncle Michael to lock her inside her own home if it kept her safe.

"Ava?"

She turned at her mother's voice. In the future, Liz had been a force to be feared. The stories her parents used to tell... both of Liz's courage and her compassion... seemed so distant from this young, unsure woman who now stood before her. But in those dark brown eyes, she could see a slight reflection of a legend, a woman who had died defending her family and her people from a madman. And that tiny bit of the Queen in her mother's eyes gave her hope that maybe, just maybe, this could finally be over.  
Khivar could finally be defeated.

"Yes?" she asked softly.

"You want us to go with you? To the future?"

"Mm... yeah." Ava shifted uncomfortably and darted a glance at her father. Max's eyes betrayed nothing but a simmering fury at Khivar, and she wondered if that anger would be enough to convince him to follow her on a wild goose chase through time.

"How?"

"With the Granolith," Ava answered. "It... it's how I got back in time. But I used the one in my time, which means the one in this time is unused. Which means we can... we can get to the future with it."

Max slanted a look at Liz, and she swallowed uneasily. Ava watched them both, waiting for a verdict.

Finally, Max said, "We should call a meeting. Speak to the others."

"No!" Ava interjected fiercely. Max and Liz both looked startled, and Max raised one eyebrow questioningly, silently indicating for her to explain her hesitancy. Ava bit her lip, running a hand through her hair, but explained, "Uncle Michael and Aunt Maria would be against it. They'd think it was too risky. Aunt Isabel also. And probably Auntie Tess. Uncle Kyle or Uncle Alex might be okay with it, but I don't know..." She trailed off, thinking this over for a moment, before adding, "But it would take too long to gather everyone together and convince them. We need to just... go."

"We don't do things unilaterally, Ava," Max protested, shaking his head in reply to her arguments. "Liz and I can't just go to the future without telling anyone. It could endanger..."

"No," Ava said again, refusing to change her opinion. "Look, you can come back from the future to this exact moment in time. They won't even know that you are gone. It's _fine_."

She followed them both with her eyes as Max stepped away from her, turning around and staring at the wall, his back facing her. Liz moved to his side and rested a hand on his arm, the two of them talking in hushed whispers. She wished she knew what they were saying, but something told her to stay back and let them have this conversation in private.  
Still, try as she might, she could not help but overhear bits of the conversation.

"...know it is dangerous, Liz."

"...other choices, Max? Because I don't..."

"Maybe."

Ava glanced back at the window, suddenly weary. Uncle Michael had always told her that her father was much more cautious than the rash and fearsome hybrid General, but she had not expected this type of resistance from him or her mother. She was their daughter, and although her memories of them were slim and foggy, she had somehow believed that they would heed her advice simply because she was their daughter. It was, perhaps, the foolish wishes of a child, but how could she ever think anything else of the parents she had idolized for so long?

Uncle Kyle had warned her once about the dangers of confusing what she wished to be true with what actually was true. She felt that lesson now more than she had felt it in the past, but at the time she had been far too young to understand what he was trying to teach her._  
_

_"Uncle Kyle?" the little girl asked, pulling herself onto his lap. She was only eight, so young, but she had already lost both her parents and two of her aunts. Her family was small now, very small, but her insatiable curiosity never allowed her to cease wondering about those who had died. "How come you never talk about Auntie Tess?"  
_

_"What do you mean, squirt?" Uncle Kyle asked, ruffling her hair with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. "I talk about her."  
_

_"Nuh uh," the eight-year-old countered. "Uncle Alex talks about Auntie Isabel, and everyone talks about Mommy and Daddy. But you... when you talk about Auntie Tess, you never really say anything."  
_

_Uncle Kyle looked at her with an expression that she would not recognize as regret until much later. "What do you want to know about her?"  
_

_"What was Auntie Tess like?"  
_

_"Stubborn and abrasive. And compassionate."  
_

_Ava wrinkled her nose, not quite understanding what any of the words meant. So she asked in a sing-song voice, "Did you loooove her?"  
_

_"From the very first moment we met. But for a while, there were things in the way. Nasedo..." He stopped speaking, his eyes moving past her and focusing on something she couldn't see, couldn't quite understand. "I guess there were always things in the way. We were happy, for a while. But then Khivar..."  
_

_"But if you loved her... Aunt Maria says love can conquer anything!"  
_

_Uncle Kyle ruffled her hair again. "Your Aunt Maria dreams too much. Love can conquer a lot of things, but not everything. Just ask your Uncle Alex, he knows this as well."  
_

_"Because Aunt Isabel is gone?"  
_

_"Yeah." He kissed her forehead. "Sometimes you want things to work out, you want things to not be true, but... you can't confuse dreams and reality."  
_

_The eight-year-old never quite understood the warning in his words, or fully comprehended why the shadows had settled in her Uncle's eyes. He was thinking of something she could not fathom, his thoughts going somewhere she could not follow. She tugged at her own hair, suddenly concerned by all the secret meanings she could not even begin to grasp.  
_

"Ava?"

She jerked herself from her memories and glanced back at the concerned expression on her mother's face. "Sorry," she murmured. "Just... lost in some thoughts." She twisted her arms together, crossing them over her chest. "Did you... decide?"

"We don't like the idea of going without telling anyone," Max said firmly, stepping up to Liz's side.

Ava inhaled sharply and dropped her gaze.

"But we trust you," he added, and her gaze snapped up to his face.

"You do?" she whispered, shocked.

"Yeah," Liz said heavily, and her words were the final decision in the matter. "Yeah, Ava, we do."

* * *

Liz climbed over the rocks that led towards the pod chamber, her heart hammering in her chest. She had passed the point of shock and suspicion, all but forgotten her earlier disbelief. At this point, she felt nothing but numb, and part of her kept expecting to wake up and find out that this was all just a dream.

A very bizarre dream.

Max was leading them, walking towards the pod chamber with a sense of renewed determination. She watched him, studying the tension in his neck and the way his eyes constantly flickered left to right. He presented an aura of calm, but she could see the uneasiness beneath the surface.

Ava was trailing, her movements quick and sharp, almost darting from one place to another. Since the moment they had slipped through the window of Liz's bedroom and hurried into the night, the younger girl had been nervous, anxious. She was a bundle of energy that could not relax, could not let her guard down, and Liz once again wondered what could have possibly happened to make her daughter like that.

But those troubled thoughts slipped through her grasp, and she found her mind pulled towards angrier questions. Like just how here parents could have lied to her for so long? If she was truly alien - and she only half-believed that assertion - then her parents must have adopted her. But then why would they never tell her?

If she was alien, why had she never shown signs of using her powers before? If Max, Michael, Isabel, and Tess had all been able to manipulate molecules and blast things apart since the moment they hatched from their pods, then why had she appeared completely human for so long? Why were her red blood cells normal when Max's looked like they belonged to a completely different species?

These were all questions that no one seemed to be able to answer, but perhaps the future versions of Michael and Maria might have the necessary pieces to complete the puzzle.

"Liz? We're here."

Liz stared at the rock formation rising before her. Max had already run his hand over the smooth surface of the stone, and a hand-print appeared. A moment later, the rock slid backwards and to the side, melting into the surrounding walls and creating and opening into the pod chamber. As Liz followed Max into the dark cave, she could not help but wondered if she too had hatched from a pod. And if so, where was this pod?

"You said you know how to activate the Granolith?" Max murmured, turning to Ava. It was half-question, half-statement, and the girl nodded, withdrawing a crystal from the pockets of her sweatshirt.

"Where did you get that?" Liz asked, frowning at the strange rock. "What does it do? What is it?"

"It's the key to the Granolith," Ava replied, handing it to Max. "It's a long story about how I got it." She glanced over her shoulder towards the entrance of the cave that had sealed shut behind them, and Liz could read the apprehension in her eyes. "We should hurry," Ava said.

It did not take long to insert the crystal into the base of the Granolith, and suddenly the air above the strange contraption was humming with a iridescent blue light, and swirling vortex of energy. Max stared at it for a moment, fear in his eyes, and Liz knew instinctively that he was wondering if it would be seen by others. Would it somehow alert the FBI to their presence? Or the skins? They had not discussed that possibility, but the last thing anyone would want was to bring more danger to the desert town.

Ava, however, did not seem to care. She reached up and rested the palm of her hand on the swirling energy, and suddenly she was gone, dissolving before their very eyes. Liz almost cried out and tried to grab at her daughter, but too late, and she stared, dumbstruck, and the girl passed between her fingers and reappeared with the mass of energy.

"What...?" Max hissed. "What was that?"

"Come on!" Ava cried, but her voice sounded far away, as though it was echoing to them from across a valley.

Max and Liz both reached towards the energy, pressing their palms against the blue light, and waiting to be sucked into the vortex.

It was the strangest sensation Liz had ever experienced. It was as though she was being torn apart from inside, floating in space, barely holding herself together. It wasn't exactly painful, but it was disorienting and disconcerting and incredibly uncomfortable. And even as she felt herself coming back together, the particles of her body reforming once again, the cave faded from around them and they were, quite suddenly, gone.

* * *

Max slammed to the floor with a sudden thud, the oxygen leaving his lungs. He lay on his stomach, gasping for breath as his body was forced against the dirt floor by the weight of something on top of him. He had no idea what it was, or where he was, or how he had gotten there. Everything was vague and misty in his mind, thoughts and memories that made no sense. His arms ached, but the tips of his fingers were completely numb, devoid of any feeling at all. He blinked once or twice, trying to soothe the dryness in his eyes, but they continued to sting as the dust irritated the membranes.

The weight on top of him shifted. And then it groaned.

"Max?"

The sound of Liz's voice brought the past suddenly rushing back to him, and as she lifted herself from the floor, he twisted around sharply to look at her. "Liz? Are you okay? Where's Ava?"

"I'm right here," came a voice from the gloom, and he squinted, trying to find Ava's shape in the dark. She was sitting a few feet behind him, having pushed herself from the ground. One hand was tugging at her hair, the other rubbing at her eyes as she glanced around the rocks that extended on either side of them.

"Where are we?" Liz asked, and her voice was hoarse.

"Welcome to my present," Ava answered softly.

Max rose to his feet and looked around. The ground was clearly desert floor, but he had no idea what the rocks around him could be. It looked like some sort of stone dwelling that had been blown apart by an explosion. Bits of the night sky, dotted with twinkling stars, were visible through empty spaces between the tips of the rock towers. The towers themselves jutted out on all sides, and displaced boulders and shards of rock littered the ground around them. Through cracks in between the towers, he could see the desert spreading out all around him.

"Where are we?"

"The pod chamber," Ava replied. "Or, at least, what's left of it."

Max turned to Liz, intent on asking her something, but the question died on his lips as he stared at the woman before him. It was Liz, except it was a much older Liz. This woman looked as though she was in her late thirties. Her dark hair was shorter, only a bit longer than her chin, and wavy. Thin lines rimmed the corners of her eyes and stretched across her forehead. It was, Max realized with a jolt, what Liz would look like had she still been alive in this time.

Over twenty years later, and she was still just as beautiful.

"What happened to you?" Max asked.

But Liz startled him with her answer. "Me? What happened to _you_?"

He looked down at his hands and arms, then lifted one hand to his face. His hair was longer, and his chin was covered in dark stumble. He, too, had aged.

Both Liz and Max looked over at Ava.

"I... I don't know," she stammered, surprised as well. "It must be something the Granolith did. I don't... I don't really know the specifics of... of how it works. Maybe... maybe for you to be in this time, you have to be... be a part of it. Be the people you would have been, had you..." She trailed off with a shrug.

"I don't like this," Liz muttered, and Max found himself privately agreeing with her.

But Ava did not seem to concerned by what had happened to her parents. Instead, she was gazing around the ruins of the cave with a frown. "I arranged to have the Granolith bring us back to a minute after I left. But that means someone will have seen the Granolith leaving, and Khivar is going to have his skins here any second. We need to get out of here, get back to a safe-house, before..."

She was cut off by the sound of footsteps and a shadow passed over the group. Max and Liz instantly darted to the side, concealing themselves between various rock formations. Ava made to move as well, but then a figure appeared before her, and she froze instead.

And then the figured reach out and seized her by the arms, nearly yelling into her face, "What did you do?"

"I..."

"I promised your parents I would keep you safe, Ava! I swore to Max I would never let anything happen to you, and you decide to run away from us and activate the Granolith without telling anyone?"

"I was trying to..."

"I don't care what you were trying to do! You do not get to do something like this, not without telling the rest of us. What if something had happened to you? What if you had been caught? Khivar wants you dead, remember? And he's already managed to kidnap you once! You _know _he is going to try again."

"Yes, but..."

"Not to mention the fact that we have managed to keep the location of the Granolith a secret from Khivar and his skins for years. Any minute, this place will be swarming with his army. You gave away the location, you've lead him right here!"

"I know, but..."

"And now the Granolith is gone as well! What did you even use it for?"

"That's what I am trying to tell you..."

"And why didn't you check with us first? Why didn't you ask for help? I should have come with you! How else am I suppose to keep you safe? I can't protect you when I don't even know where you are! Do you have _any _idea how terrified I was when I realized you were gone? I thought Khivar had caught you."

"I'm sorry, but you see, I..."

"How could you do this to us? I swore to Max, Ava! I promised Liz! I am supposed to keep you safe, and you..." And then the figure had trailed off in surprise as he caught sight of Max and Liz emerging from the shadows cast by the rocky outcroppings.

Max studied the man. His hair was longer, his eyes filled with anger and fury and passion and determination. His arms were criss-crossed by white scars, and his expression was one of a warrior who had seen too many battles. His clothes were dirty and his skin slick with sweat, most likely from his rapid and reckless climb through the crumbling remains of the pod chamber.

But despite all that, he was still recognizable.

Ava took advantage of the momentary silence to finally explain herself.

"This is what I've been trying to tell you! I used the Granolith to get us help!"

Liz crossed to Max, and the two of them moved to stand by Ava. Liz offered a hesitant smile, Ava folded her arms over her chest in a defiant manner, and Max greeted the man with a nod of his head and quiet words.

"Hello, Michael."

And Michael, in his late-thirties and aged even more than that by the hardships of war, stared in mute silence at the three people before him, unable to believe what he saw.


	4. Friends and Enemies

Title: When Times Collide

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Summary: When Max and Liz's daughter comes to the past seeking help, two times collide in a desperate race to save the future.

* * *

Chapter Four: Friends and Enemies

The attack came so swiftly that Liz had no idea what had hit her. One moment she was standing there, staring at this future version of Michael, and the next she was flying through the air, her body weightless, tossed about like a discarded rag-doll. She slammed into the stone formation behind her, and the dull ache that spread through her body was enough to push her near the black of unconsciousness.

She was only dimly aware of Michael standing over her, hand outstretched, a look of cold fury etched into every line of his hardened face.

"Uncle Michael!" Ava screamed, but Liz could only just barely focus on her words. It was Michael's eyes that caught her attention and dragged her back from slipping into the emptiness of sleep. His eyes were jaded, fierce, and filled with a hatred she could not even begin to fathom.

There was no denying it; he scared her.

"I don't know who you are," Michael snarled, and Liz cringed, trying to sit up and finding that she could barely move. She was not sure if it was her own pain keeping her in place, or something Michael was doing to her, but the fear instantly flared into intense terror.

"Michael..." she whispered.

"...but I will kill you all the same," Michael continued, ignoring her plea. "How did you do it? _Why _did you do it?"

"Hey. Michael, let go..." Max started, but the hybrid General spun towards him, and out of the corner of her eye, Liz saw Max crumple to the ground, hit by some invisible force. Michael did not even bat an eye.

"I'll deal with you next," he spat, shaking with pent-up rage. He twisted back towards Liz, and she caught sight of the scar running along his throat, testimony to a nearly fatal wound he had obviously suffered during some battle. "Did you really think dressing up as my friends would make a difference? That it would fool me into seeing you as anything other than the liars and murderers you so obviously are?"

"Uncle Michael, they're not skins," Ava interjected, trying to push her way towards her parents. She and Liz locked gazes for a moment, and Liz could easily read the fear in her daughter's eyes. It did not take long for her to realize that Ava was afraid of what Michael might do to them, and that lead to the understanding that this Michael, the Michael from the future, would kill an enemy without hesitation.

Once again, she could only wondered helplessly about this horrible time, wonder what had happened to so irrevocably change the people she thought she had known.

"Stay back, Ava," Michael snapped, not even sparing her a glance. He did not let his eyes leave Liz's face, and he advanced slowly towards her. Underneath the hatred, she could see something like grief flickering in gaze.

"Michael, I..." Liz tried to defend herself, barely managing to crawl to her knees. Again, a force slammed into her chest, knowing the breath from her lungs, and the world spun around her. She found herself lying face-down, her head only centimeters above the dirt floor.

"Khivar should know better than this," Michael hissed, crouching by her side and yanking her back to her knees. "You might look like Liz, but you are not her. I do not know how you tricked Ava, but I will not let you take her. _Ever_."

"Uncle Michael, listen to me!" Ava tried again, tears pooling in her eyes. "Please, I..."

"And you," Michael continued furiously, now giving the younger girl one swift look, "you should know better than to trust anyone without absolute proof. This kind of rash stunt is exactly what will get us all killed..."

"Michael, stop it!" Max ordered, rising to his feet.

Liz watched in horror as Michael waved his hand at Max, and as the flow of energy struck the hybrid king in the chest, the brunette waitress found herself struggling forward, shoving her entire weight against Michael and bringing him to the ground. He was caught off-guard by the attack, but it only took him a moment to recover, and suddenly she could not breathe. The world around her floated in and out of focus, and Ava's screams seemed to come from some distant place, rising and falling in volume.

"Uncle Michael! Look!"

The pain eased slightly, and Liz forced herself to raise her head and survey the scene. Michael had frozen, eyes wide as he focused on Max, and it took Liz a moment to figure out what exactly had happened. Ava was standing behind her father, holding one hand to the back of his head, and a swirling mass of energy exploded from Max's forehead. In front of them, in the center of the darkened ruins, the energy began to flicker, and then several dots of light appeared, forming a V-shaped constellation of tiny white stars.

Michael gaped.

"It's really him," Ava whispered, the tears now streaming down her pale face. "It's really my Mom and Dad."

Michael stumbled backwards, the expression on his face caught somewhere between tortuous hope and firm denial. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no sound issued from his parted lips. "I... but... _how_?"

"I went to the past," Ava whispered, dropping her hand to Max's shoulder. The light disappeared, the constellation fading. "I... I brought them here. To us." She hesitated, indecision passing momentarily through her eyes, before adding, "I don't know why they look like... that." She gestured towards Liz, her hand waving pointlessly in the air. "I don't know why they're... older. In the past, they were around my age."

Liz groaned in agony as she attempted to stand up. She was trembling, barely able to hold her own weight, but she managed a defiant glare for Michael, almost challenging him to deny the truth. Max, too, rose to his feet, and Liz could the see the intense pain in his eyes. But he moved swiftly to her side, slipping his arm around her shoulders, supporting her, gently trying to heal the bruises that were forming on her skin.

Michael watched them, but it was clear that his attention was directed more towards Ava, who was still speaking.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. But you would have tried to stop me. And I had to do this. We need them..." she trailed off with a contemplative expression. "You know we need them."

"You stole my journal," Liz said abruptly, staring hard at Michael. "About a year ago. You stole my journal to make sure I could keep your secrets, and I never told anyone the truth. I said I had just misplaced it. Remember?"

"Wait, that's what happened to it?" Max demanded incredulously. His gaze moved to Michael. "You _stole _her diary?"

"It's a journal," Liz corrected automatically. "Not a diary. Diaries are for preteens with crushes on movie stars." Which was, she knew, not in any way important to the conversation, but she still felt the need to seperate herself from the eleven- and twelve-year-olds who covered binders in pink and purple glitter and inane writings about their favorite celebrity.

Numbly, Michael nodded, the suspicion slowly ebbing from his features.

"You broke a lamp in Hank's trailer and we had to mend it before Hank returned," Max said finally, adding in his own memory. "It was the first time we had used our powers to repair something, the first time you had ever been able to control what you were doing... We never told anyone about that. Not even Isabel."

"You... you're really..."

"Yes," Ava murmured. "They are."

And the next thing Liz knew, she was enveloped in a crushing hug that left her gasping for breath. She could feel Max pressed against her side as Michael latched tightly onto both of them. Her face was pressed against his chest, and she could hear his rapidly beating heart, feel the rise and fall of his lungs. He was muttering something incoherent into her hair, and in the hug she sensed some kind of desperation.

Michael released them and stepped back, and she was shocked to see the change in his expression. The suspicion was completely gone, as was the exhaustion, the fear, and the frustration. He was smiling.  
Really, truly, actually smiling.

"Uncle Michael!" Ava said suddenly, and they both whirled around and stared through the gaps in the rocks towards the slowly sloping desert floor. In the near distance, a few lights flickered on and off, and shadows crept over the ground.

"There here," Michael whispered, swallowing uneasily. He slanted a look at the young girl by his side. "Can you hide us?"

Ava nodded, a little wary, and closed her eyes. Her face took on a gray pallor as she struggled to erect a mind-warp around them. As she battled with her powers, Michael carefully lifted her slender body into his arms and gestured for Max and Liz to follow him. Silently, and hidden from view by the mind-warp, they made their way from the ruins of the cave.

The night air was cool. To the south, Liz could see the city of Roswell. Or, what had been Roswell. The sleepy desert town had grown, and now it sprawled across the desert, a mass of bright lights, smog, and noise. Between Roswell and the ruined pod chamber, several figures moved, some running with inhuman speed, others being transported on vehicles that looked like a cross between some Star Wars flying-car invention and a motorcycle. None were close enough to see their faces, but Liz felt a shiver of fear as she watched them, inexplicably knowing, beyond all doubt, that they were enemies.

Michael led them along a twisting path, but after a few minutes, they broke from the trail and crossed into the desert. Liz had trouble keeping up with the others as they scrambled over the loose rocks which kept slipping under her hurried steps. Once or twice, Max reached back to help her, and she gratefully took his hand and let him pull her forward, picking up the pace.

Finally, they reached a set of cliffs that rose towards the sky, towering above everything around them. The base of the cliffs were spotted with cacti and other small plants, and the gravel had been pushed against the rock wall, creating small sand dunes.

"Ava? You can stop now."

At Michael's words, Ava's eyes snapped open, and she took a shuddering breath. Resting one hand on her forehead, she winced and said slowly, "Mmm... good. I don't know how much longer I could have kept it up."

"You can mind-warp?" Liz asked interestedly.

Ava gave an embarrassed shrug. "Sort-of. I'm better at other things. I never really got the hang of mind-warping and dream-walking. Aunt Maria says she thinks it is because Auntie Tess and Aunt Isabel were not around to teach it to me."

Ava had lowered her gaze sheepishly, and Max was staring hard at his daughter, so only Liz say the dark look that flared in Michael's eyes. It last only for a split-second, and then it was gone, so well covered that she wondered if she had imagined the entire thing.

Michael rested his hand against the rock, and Liz moved to his side. "What are you doing?" she asked, frowning as the surface began to ripple underneath his fingers. Slowly, an opening appeared, growing in size until it was large enough for them to climb through into the darkness. Then he shot a quick look at Liz and said, "In a matter of minutes, this entire place will be crawling with skins. We don't have the time or technology capable of getting us back to base before we get caught, so we're going to have to hide. This is one of the safe-houses, we will be okay in here."

As if to prove his point, he stepped through the opening, and Ava hurried after him. Liz shrugged, giving Max a dubious look, but she too followed Michael, Max climbing in behind her. They found themselves in a large cave which was lit by an eerie blue glow that seemed to emanate from the edge where the floor met the walls. The entrance room of the cave itself was empty, but there were two corridors leading into the dark on either side of the far wall.

"Where do those lead?" Liz asked, pointing.

Michael turned to her, another smile splitting his face in two. "You see them? How many?"

"Two. Why wouldn't we see them?" Max asked, putting a voice to Liz's equally confused thoughts.

It was Ava who answered. "This was created after the skins had killed Aunt Isabel and Auntie Tess. We needed another safe-house, one close to the pod chamber. So you both made this, and you used some mixture of your powers and some technology you stole from Khivar, and you made it so that this corridor," she pointed towards the one on the right, "can only be seen my a limited number of people."

"It's another proof that we are who we say we are?" Liz surmised. She gave Michael a glare, although it had little heat to it, and added, "I think you already figured that one out. In a rather painful way." She rested both her hands on her ribs, wondering vaguely if they were fractured. But Max had healed most of the pain, and so she doubted she would have any internal injuries.

Michael had the decency to look abashed for a moment, but then his gaze grew hard and he answered softly, "You never can be too careful. And I promised both of you that I would protect Ava from everything. I intend to keep that promise."

Max moved closer to Michael, and the two of them began to speak in hushed whispers. Liz, however, walked over to Ava and stared at the entrance to the corridor in front of them. "What type of technology is it?" she asked curiously, wondering what exactly would be used to disguise something in this time.

Ava smiled faintly, looking a little embarrassed. "I don't really know. It has something to do with holograms... only its more than that. It's like... well, if you can't see it, you also can't go through it... it somehow convinces your nerves that they feel a wall there, and... well..." She shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. Sorry, Mom, but I didn't exactly inherit your understanding of science or that sort of thing. Uncle Alex can explain it to you when you see him."

"Where does it lead?"

"Rooms, mostly. Storage for food and weapons, places to sleep. A few computers and a library. An infirmary." She jerked her head at the other corridor. "It's a decoy. It leads into more corridors and caves, but they're all empty."

"Has anyone ever broken in here?"

"No. And you can't, not really. You have to know exactly where the entrance is and exactly how to manipulate the rocks to open the cave. Still... better safe than sorry."

Liz nodded slowly. "Who else can get in here?"

"Um... Uncle Alex, Uncle Kyle, Aunt Maria. Kal. Larek. And Serena knows where it is, but she can't get in. Can't manipulate the rocks."

There were so many questions Liz wanted to ask, such as how Alex, Kyle, and Maria could get in when they didn't have alien powers, or who Kal and Larek were and if they had come from Antar also, or who Serena was. But Ava continued speaking, and Liz let the questions slide, knowing she would have plenty of time for answers later.

"It is our only safe-house that is built this way. The others are open to everyone in the Resistance. But this one needs to be kept secret. Very secret. Especially since it is so close to the pod chamber and to Roswell."

Michael and Max joined them at that moment, and Max wrapped his arm around Liz's shoulder. She leaned against him, feeling exhausted. "Come on, let's get some rest," Michael offered, walking into the corridor. "We need to take turns keeping guard, just in case, but I'll take the first shift. You both look like you need the sleep."

They followed behind him in silence for a moment, but then Liz moved to Michael's side and asked, "Ava said you needed to build a new safe-house after Isabel and Tess were killed. Was the old one compromised?"

Michael glanced back at Ava, who was walking a few steps behind them, talking with Max. He stared at her for a moment, then slowly shook his head and looked back at Liz. "Something like that," he said softly, and she knew that there was more to the story, but that it was not the right time to push the subject.

They lapsed into silence once more.

* * *

Liz wasn't sure what happened during the night. She fell asleep soon after her head hit the pillow, but awoke much later to find Michael still moving about. The hybrid General was watching the three of them sleep, but when he caught her staring at him, he quickly tried to hide it. But Liz wasn't fooled, and she pushed herself up onto her elbows, regarding the alien seriously.

"How are you?"

Michael raised an eyebrow at her whispered question. "Kind of a broad question, don't you think?" His eyes traveled to Ava and Max, both fast asleep, before switching back to Liz. "How are you? I'd imagine this is a lot to take in..."

Liz smiled faintly and nodded. "Yes," she agreed readily enough. "But I'm not the one who has apparently been living in hell for the past couple decades."

Michael shrugged, an attempt at nonchalance that did not quite convince Liz. The tension was still evident in the lines around his eyes and it the short tone he used as he answered, "I'm fine. It isn't as though I haven't had time to adjust to this new world."

"Double negatives are grammatically incorrect," Liz murmured.

Michael rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Trust you to think about proper usage of language at a time like this, Parker."

"Seriously," Liz said, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of her lips before her tone became solemn once more, "how are you?"

Michael turned away from her. "Married. And a father."

Liz's jaw dropped. Despite the fact that it was evident from Ava's explanation of the state of this strange future that Michael and Maria had gotten married, the brunette was still shocked to hear him say that he was a father. It had simply never crossed her mind that there might be more children besides Ava.

"Boy or girl?"

"Boy. Named him Zan," Michael muttered, and Liz could hear the gruff pride in his voice. "Good kid, but a little rebellious. Rash and headstrong."

"Hmm... remind you of anyone?" Liz asked with a pointed smirk.

"Not nearly as much as Ava reminds me of you," Michael answered honestly, and she could hear the grief in his voice. She could not help but wonder just how close she had gotten to Michael before her death. They had never been particularly close friends, only connected through Max and Maria. But the pain in his voice was so thick, almost palpable.

"How's Maria?"

"Same. A little more serious. Still carries around cedar oil and all that other junk. Talks constantly. Argues a lot."

"Alex? Kyle?"

Michael didn't say anything, and his silence was enough of an answer for Liz. "I'm sorry about Isabel and Tess," she offered, hoping her few words of comfort might mean something to him.

Michael looked at her sharply, eyes growing dark. "Yeah. Me, too."

Liz bit her lip uneasily and cast a look at her sleeping daughter. "You and Maria... you did a good job raising her after... after Max and I..." Michael turned away from her, but she saw his gaze linger on Ava for a fraction of a second, and his eyes softened just slightly. Liz swallowed back her own turbulent emotions and whispered, "Thank you. For looking after my daughter."

"I promised Max. And besides, you would have done the same, if the situation had been reversed," Michael answered with another shrug, but the faint tinge of color on his skin belied his casual tone. Liz dropped her gaze, pretending not to notice the way he flushed with pleasure at her praise. It was clear Ava meant a lot to him.

"What is the future like? Ava told us a little, but... what should we be prepared to see tomorrow?"

Michael leaned against the wall. "I don't know, Liz. I can't... I can't even remember what the world was like before all this happened. It's been so long since..." He stopped, inhaling slowly, before adding, "Anyway, I doubt warning you would make a difference. You really need to experience this world to understand."

"Maybe Max and I can fix it."

"Maybe." Michael ran a hand through his hair. "Honestly, I don't even know why Ava brought you here. I don't know what she thinks you can do."

"We'll figure it out," Liz promised, praying fervently that she could keep that promise.

Michael looked at her. "I guess," he said, but his tone conveyed just how little hope he had about that.

* * *

When Liz woke again, it was morning. Ava was already awake, sitting at the edge of her bed and listening to Michael. The two broke off abruptly as Liz sat up, and gave her awkward smiles. Instead of asking about it, however, she looked over at Max's bed, and found it empty.

"Where...?" she started, but Ava quickly interrupted with the answer.

"Dad kept watch for the second half of the night. He's awake, in one of the other rooms."

"I didn't keep watch," Liz said quickly. "Why didn't you wake me? You could have gotten more sleep."

"You looked tired," Michael answered simply.

"He didn't wake me, either," Ava offered, rising slowly and stretching. "Uncle Michael is very... ah... chivalrous." With a teasing smile for Michael, she added, "Of course, Aunt Maria tends to describe it more as sexist chauvinism..."

Michael glared at the younger girl, and said to Liz, "Well, you know how Maria is..."

But, Liz reflected, she _didn't_ know what Maria was like. Not in this time. The Maria she knew was not fighting a war, had not lost friends to enemy aliens, had not been forced to witness the destruction of the world. The Maria she knew was not married, did not have a child. And, quite suddenly, she was terrified by the idea of facing her best friend. Because, in truth, she did not know this person... at all.

If Michael noticed her discomfort, he made no mention of it. Instead, he said to Ava, "You had better collect your father. The sooner we get out of here, the better. Khivar is going to know by now that something has happened, and the longer we wait, the harder it will be to avoid his patrols."

Ava obeyed the request instantly, moving past Liz and disappearing into one of the hallways.

"This is all so... strange," Liz murmured as she, too, rose to her feet. She ran a hand through her hair in a vain attempt to make herself look presentable. But there was nothing she could do to east the nervous butterflies in her stomach, so she crossed her arms over her chest and waited for Ava and Max to return.

It did not take long. As they reentered the room, Max slipped quickly to Liz's side, offering her a hesitant smile, which she returned. She took his hand in her own, grateful for the support it offered, and glanced back at Michael.

"Come on," Michael said finally. "No point waiting around." It was clear from the apprehension in Ava's eyes and the way Michael shifted his weight back and forth, ready to spring into attack at any moment, that they were worried about venturing out of the safety of the cave.

"I could use a hot shower," Liz answered with a tight smile, her attempt at humor an effort to lift the tension that had suddenly fallen over the room.  
Michael barely spared her a second glance as he walked from the room, muttering, "Yeah, right. Like that will happen."

Liz sighed, and with Max's hand still locked tightly in her own, she followed Michael and her daughter through a labyrinth of corridors. When they finally emerged from the caves and into the bright sunlight, blinking at the fierce glare reflecting from the desert sand and rocks, Liz was surprised to see that they were somewhere she did not recognize. It was not the same place that they had entered the safe-house the night before. The pod chamber, or what was left of it, could not be seen, and the faint lights of Roswell were much further away. She was about to comment on this, but realized quickly that Michael and Ava had already begun to walk away.

Hurrying to catch up with them, she asked, "Do we have to walk all the way to this new safe-house?"

"We're not going to a safe-house, we're going back to the main base," Michael answered, his tone clipped as he scanned the horizon for signs of movement. The sun had only begun its ascent less than an hour earlier, but already the heat caused beads of sweat to pool along his forehead, and he impatiently brushed them out of his eyes as he gaze Liz a sidelong look. "And no, we won't have to walk all of the way."

"How did you get here?" Max asked. "Did you have a car?"

"No. I took my motorcycle. Had to abandon it when we fled last night. Khivar probably has it by now."

"He'll know it was yours," Ava murmured worriedly. "He'll know you were here."

"If he knows that, why aren't his skins all over the place?"

Michael frowned at Max as he answered in a low voice, "What makes you think they aren't?"

"I..." Max faltered, glanced around him worriedly.

"We're being followed," Ava whispered. "Two skins behind us, and one to the right. I think maybe two up ahead as well."

"No," Michael corrected automatically, "that's not quite right, Ava. The two behind us are skins, but the other three are not. The two ahead might be human, but the one to our side is definitely a Tel'Aran."  
"A what?"

"From Tel'Ar. One of the planets close to Antar," Ava replied, concerned. "They're powerful, and the ones on Earth are mostly mercenaries." She slanted a look at Michael. "This isn't good."

"It's fine," Michael answered calmly. "We're close."

"Close to _what_?"

They had only been walking for about ten minutes, but Liz could see a road twisting in the near distance, heading towards the outskirts of a nearby city. It was not as large as Roswell, but Liz knew for a fact that it was not a city that had been there two decades ago. Given that it had only had some twenty-odd years to appear, it had grown at a rapid pace.

"Who's meeting us?" Ava asked anxiously.

"Kal. I made contact with him last night," Michael answered readily enough. "He was already in Coorsville on 'official diplomatic business' and offered to..."

"Coorsville?" Liz asked.

At the same time, Max demanded, "Who is Kal?"

"Coorsville," Michael answered, gesturing towards the town to their right, "was named after General Coors, one of Khivar's right-hand men. He was killed during the battle in which Khivar took Roswell, and the madman king decided to honor him with a city." Then he looked at Max and said slowly, "And Kal is... a friend. Sort of. He's an ally, at any rate."

They had reached the road. Michael looked down at his watch, and Liz felt the thrill of anticipation crawl up her spine.

"Max, Liz, you guys aren't quite as adept at using your powers yet as I would have liked. You're probably more of a liability right now than anything else. Stay back."

Max looked ready to protest Michael's hissed order, but the hybrid general ignored him and continued talking.

"Ava, watch my back, but do not engage unless you absolutely have to. When Kal comes, you'd better be the first into that car."

Ava rolled her eyes at her overprotective uncle, but seemed to know better than to argue with him. Still, the defiant look in her eyes indicated that it was unlikely that she would just stand to the side and watch a fight. It was interesting, Liz reflected, the way the shy, intimidated girl who she had met had already seemed to disappear, replaced by this stubborn, fierce, persistent fighter. Was the nervousness something that only showed up around her long-deceased parents?

But before she could even contemplate this thought for more than a few seconds, all hell broke loose.

Max grabbed her and pulled her backwards just as a bolt of something exploded from their right, and sand and dust flew everywhere. Michael fell into a fighting stance with practiced ease, Ava following close behind. A moment later, and Michael and another man were embroiled in a fierce fight, hand-to-hand combat that was occasionally punctuated by explosions of light and energy.

The Michael whipped around, pushing away from his opponent, and yelled, "Max, down!" As Max and Liz both collapsed to the ground, the hybrid General pointed a finger towards two men emerging from across the road, letting loose a wave of energy that swept across the ground, decimating anything in its path. One of the approaching men instantly fell, but the other was able to jump to the side, and drew a gun.

The crack of bullets was enough to make Max instinctively throw up his shield, and the metal cylinders bounced harmlessly against the flickering green force-field before clattering to the ground.

Michael was fighting again. Liz twisted, rising to her feet, watching as he caught his enemies wrist and yanked it forward, pulling the alien off balance. A well-placed kick to the stomach was enough to send his opponent to the ground, but Ava had said that these Tel'Arans were powerful, and it was clear that even disabled and writhing with pain, this alien was a formidable opponent. He lashed out, one hand slashing through the air, and even though his fingers did not make contact with Michael's body, thin red gashes appeared across the taciturn hybrid's face. With blood in his eyes, he stumbled back, momentarily confused.

"No!"

Ava was at her uncle's side in a heartbeat, attacking the Tel'Aran with what looked like a strange combination of energy and fire. The man screamed in pain, swatting at the flames with his bare hands, and another round of bullets cut through the air.

Max, again, blocked the bullets with his shield, but this time it wavered slightly, and he knew the next time it might not stand up to the fury of this onslaught. Ava took a few steps forward, but was cut off by Michael's terse order.

"Ava, get back!" Michael yelled, spinning towards her. "Get back now!"

Ava obeyed, but did not look happy about it.

Two more people emerged from behind, and Liz remembered that Ava and Michael had agreed that these two were skins. Their expressions were cold, inhuman, lacking all emotions but the incredible desire to cause pain. A lot of pain.

Michael swallowed nervously. "Soldiers. They'll have contacted Khivar. We don't have much time." He slanted a look at the Tel'Aran, then towards the man still holding the gun.

It was then that the roar of an engine filled the air, and a car came careening into view, severing back and forth along the road and a breakneck pace. It slammed into the man with the gun, sending him flying through the air. He hit the ground with a thud and rolled for a few feet, before his lifeless body came to a stop. The car itself screeched to a halt, and the front door flew open, revealing a nondescript, but strangely familiar, man who Liz thought might have been a movie producer at one point. He shot to rounds from a strange-looking gun, and one of the skins exploded into tiny pieces that hovered in the air before floating on the wind, circling about each other as they fell towards the desert floor.

"What are you waiting for?" the newcomer screeched. "Get in the damn car!"

Ava, true to her word to Michael, was the first in the car. She was followed quickly by Liz and Max, all three crammed into the back. Michael sent himself rolling on his back over the hood of the car, landing easily on the other side. He yanked open the passenger's door and had only barely gotten into the seat before the car jumped to life and raced away.

Liz took a slow breath. Except for the wounds on Michael's face, they had escaped that attack relatively unscathed. But Ava looked pale and unsettled, and if the car hadn't shown up at that exact moment, they might not have lasted for much longer.

"Thanks, Kal," Ava murmured as she rested her back against the seat and closed her eyes for a moment.

Kal glanced at her, then gave a little shrug and returned his eyes to the road. "Just doing my job," he grumbled, looking ill-pleased about the fact that he had been asked to rescue them. "It's a pity, really, but I guess I couldn't just leave you there to die."

* * *

By the time they reached their destination, Liz had taken a strong dislike to Kal. He was curt and rude, and did little to disguise his distaste for all things related to this war. Michael and Ava both seemed to take his blunt and spiteful mannerisms in stride, and, in fact, did little to engage in conversation with him. But his snide remarks wormed their way under Liz's skin, and it was all she could do to keep from slapping him every time he opened his mouth.

Still, he had saved their lives and delivered them safely to the Resistance Base. She supposed she should be grateful for that.

They entered through what looked like a driveway into a narrow garage. The garage stretched out into a long passageway, and they had to pass through several force-fields on the way in. But when the garage finally opened into something larger, a hanger of sorts, Liz had to blink several times against the sheer brilliance of the white light streaming down from the ceiling.

Kal parked the car next to several other vehicles, and Ava quickly undid the seatbelt. She was the first out of the car, jumping eagerly onto the cement floor and walking towards a wide set of stairs that lead to an equally wide archway over several doors. Max and Liz followed, with Michael bringing up the rear.

Kal did not bother joining them.

And then one of the doors flew open, and a boy of about Ava's age came rushing out. His hair was medium brown and wild, and he had a wiry build.

"Dad? Did you find Ava? Did you...?"

The teenager's enthusiastic questions were cut off as he skidded to a stop in front of them, eyes narrowing slightly. His gaze moved from Ava, who was smiling sheepishly at him, to Michael.

"Dad, what...?"

He looked past Michael, to Max and Liz, and his eyes narrowed even further, his entire face hardening.

And then, quite suddenly, Max was flying backwards, spinning through the air, and falling into a heap on the cement floor.

"Zan? What are you doing?" Ava cried, rushing towards Max.

"They're skins, Ava!" Zan snarled, jumping down the last few steps and striding forward with a furious look in his eyes. "They're shape-shifters! Can't you tell that this is just some plot of Khviar's? You brought the enemy back into our home..."

Max tried to stand, but the boy, Zan, blasted him again. Liz screamed out in fear as Max's eyes glazed over in pain, and Michael grabbed his son by the shoulders, trying to stop him.

"They're not, Zan! They're really my parents," Ava pleaded, putting herself in between the irate young man and Max. "Your father can vouch for that. They're really my parents!"

"Your parents are dead, Ava," Zan retorted, pushing her roughly to the side as he tried to attack Max once more. Michael yanked him backwards, but not before he was able to unleash another bolt of energy. This one knocked Max back against the floor so hard that his head collided with the concrete, and his eyes began to water.

"Zan, stop it! They are real. They are your family! _Stop _attacking them!"

"Listen to Uncle Michael. He's telling the truth. I went back to the past, I brought them here..."

Zan turned his bright eyes towards Ava, his expression suddenly filled with hurt. "You went to the past? You went to the past and you didn't tell us? Tell _me_? Ava, do you have any idea how worried we all were when you were gone? Do you have any idea how scared I was when I thought you might have been kidnapped by the skins? And you didn't even bother to tell me that you were fine? That you were..."

"Zan, I..."

Zan looked over at Max and Liz again. "I don't care what you say about them. I don't trust them. I don't trust that they want to help us, and you shouldn't either." And without another word, he wrenched himself out of his father's grip and stormed back up the stairs and through the open door.

"Zan, wait!" Ava cried as she ran after him. "I'm sorry, I didn't..." Her voice faded as the door shut firmly behind her.

"I'm sorry," Michael offered, lending Max a hand. "Are you alright, Maxwell?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Max muttered, rubbing the back of his head. His eyes were still watering, and walking proved to be a little bit difficult, but he managed to follow Michael across the floor of the garage.

"Zan is high strung. Reckless. Rash. But he... just give him time. Once he realizes that you are really who you say you are, he'll calm down," Michael offered.

"Like father, like son, huh?" Liz murmured into Max's ear. "Not a pleasant initial welcoming from Michael or Zan."

"Hmm... yeah," Max muttered in response.

"Come on," Michael said, not hearing their responses to his comment. "I guess it's time for you to meet everyone else."


	5. The Truth of the Times

Title: When Times Collide

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Summary: When Max and Liz's daughter comes to the past seeking help, two times collide in a desperate race to save the future.

* * *

Chapter Five: The Truth of the Times

Max wrapped his fingers tightly around Liz's hand as the two of them followed Michael through the hallway. Ava and Zan had already disappeared, but Michael had said the building housed many people, so Max was slightly surprised that they had yet to see anyone. But all he saw was the empty hallway and all he heard was the echoing of their three sets of footsteps on the floor.

Beside him, Liz shivered, and he knew she was feeling the same nervous anticipation that was currently pounding in his own heart. He could tell she was eager to see Maria and Alex, but scared as well, and he couldn't help but wish he could have had a chance to see Isabel. Somehow, it seemed so unfair that Liz's two best friends were still alive in this time, but Isabel had been taken from them all.

"This way," Michael said, and gestured towards another set of doors. He pushed them open without much ceremony, and stepped into a large room. Max and Liz followed, and Max caught a quick glimpse of what looked like a cafeteria. Tables were set out in rows across the floor, and the opposite wall was affixed with a counter holding serving plates. Their were several cabinets, a few refrigerators, and a single door that lead into yet another room. Through that door, he could just make out the end of an oven.

There were people sitting at the tables. Not many, perhaps only fifteen. They were sitting in small groups of three or four, spread out amongst the tables. They all looked up as Michael entered.

And then a very familiar, and yet somehow so different, voice called out, "Michael Guerin, where have you been? I saw Zan a moment ago, and he was upset. He said you brought people back with you? And where did Ava go...?"

Liz inhaled sharply, and Max's eyes widened, and Maria DeLuca appeared before them. She had changed very little. Her hair was a bit longer, a bit darker. Her eyes still flashed with the same passion, the same temper. And she still carried herself as though she had been chiseled out of stone, unbending, unable to yield.

She froze, staring at Max and Liz in surprise, her mouth following open.

And then she moved to attack.

But Max, who was already prepared for this response, having received it twice now, pushed Liz out of the way. The brunette stumbled to her knees with a surprised yelp, and Max barely had time to register the fact that Maria was using alien powers before he had to bring up his own shield to deflect her energy-filled blow.

It was then that he realized she was not attacking him.

She was attacking Liz.

"Maria, stop it!" Michael cried, moving forward, trying to put himself between his love and her best friend. "Wait, Maria... listen to me! Just listen!"

But she refused to even pause. She pushed past Michael, fury burning brightly in her expression, and snarled at Liz, "Are you why my son is so upset? _Are _you? What did you do to him? How did you convince Michael to bring you back here? _How_?"

Max tried to step between Maria and Liz, but Maria's sudden movement towards him, a jerking of one hand, sent him sprawling backwards. He hit the floor hard, the breath rushing out of him, and was forced to roll to his side as stars danced in front of his eyes.

Through a haze of pain, he watched the irate pixie blonde turned her attention back towards Liz.

Liz whimpered slightly as she crawled to her feet, obviously not wanting to attack her best friend, but also not wanting to continually be attacked herself.

"Maria, please…"

"_Shut up_!" Maria snarled. Green dots of light danced around the edges of her hand, and Liz barely had time to jump to the side as the area around her crackled with energy. The brunette spun around, lifting a hand in a desperate attempt to protect herself… and suddenly Maria had collapsed to the ground, her body slamming hard against the floor.

Liz looked just as shocked by what she had done as Max felt at seeing her use alien powers. He knew, according to Ava at least, that she was alien, was really his wife from Antar, but still…

"You don't know what it was like!" Maria continued, her voice raising into an unnaturally high-pitched screech. "You have no idea how it felt to lose my best friend and her husband! And now you come here and pretend to be them?" She pulled herself to her feet and thrust both hands forward, and Liz stumbled back as though something had hit her hard in the chest.

Her face went pale and her breath came in sharp gasps.

Max scrambled back to his feet, trying to ignore the sudden wave of dizziness that washed over him and the way his shaking legs seemed not to want to carry his weight.

"_Murderer_!" Maria hissed at Liz, even as Max tried to push himself in between the two once more.

Michael grabbed Maria's arm, but she yanked it out of his grasp, sending him a chilling stare in the process. He took a step back, appearing momentarily stunned by the pure loathing and pain in her eyes, and she took the opportunity to rush forward, sidestep Max, and physically attack Liz.

The loud crack of her hand making contact with Liz's face echoed through the room, and Liz's head snapped back, brown hair flying about her face.

Liz pushed her hands against Maria's chest, forcing her backwards. Her fingertips momentarily glowed white, and Maria gasped and stumbled, barely staying upright.

"Maria, I don't want to hurt you," Liz said, taking a step backwards, looking desperately towards Michael for help. "You are my best friend, I don't want to…"

"I said shut up!" Maria repeated fiercely. "You don't want to hurt us? What a joke! Did Khivar really think we would fall for this?"

"Maria…"

The blonde extended her hand, palm outwards, and a strange light began to glow against her pale skin. Before she could attack, Liz reacted with instinctual speed, blasting Maria with all her power. The two energies, one from Liz and one from Maria, met half-way between them and exploded outwards, knocking the two girls, Max, and Michael off their feet.

Max felt his head hit the ground and the darkness encroached upon him. He bit his lip and did his best to stay conscious, groaning as he climbed back to his feet. Michael was already up, moving towards Maria with a look of fear on his face. Liz was kneeling on the ground, holding a hand in front of her, somehow warding off Maria's attacks. Maria stood above Liz, both hands in front of her, the two locked in a silent battle of willpower.

"You don't know how much it hurt us! Alex and I…" Maria continued, her words low and filled with a guttural hatred. "And Ava! I know Khivar is cruel, but I did not think even he would stoop this low. Sending shape-shifters who look like her parents..." She shook her head, nearly snarling with rage. "Was it not enough that he took them away from her? Away from us? Now you have to torment us like this?"

"Maria, stop it!" Michael practically bellowed, seizing her by the shoulders and shaking her so that she was forced to look at him, to stop the attack on Liz. "Stop it now!"

She pulled away from him, and Max saw the pain flicker in her eyes. "How could you bring them here, Michael?" she whispered, horrified. "Did they do something to you?"

"Maria it is not what you think..." Michael started, but he was cut off by the arrival of another.

"Then why don't you tell us exactly what is, Michael," a voice said coolly, and Max and Liz turned to stare at yet another person they had once known.

"Valenti?" Max whispered.

Kyle Valenti had changed, more than either Michael or Maria had. He seemed taller, or perhaps it was simply the way he moved, with an assured step and a fierce gaze. His eyes were dark, cold, and lacking most emotion. The lines along his jaw and across his forehead were hard, firm. Unlike both Michael and Maria, who had at least retained some ability to be carefree and happy, he seemed to have lost that entirely. And Max found himself wondering just how this future had stripped him of his smile.

"Oh, good," Kyle sneered, "you have been trained well enough to recognize me. I'm _touched_." He placed a hand on Maria's arm, carefully pulling her out of Michael's hold. She step to his side, the two of them facing Max and Liz with identical looks of disdain.

"They're not shape-shifters," Michael snapped, clearly irritated by this turn of events. It was plain to Max that he did not like it when Maria and Kyle took sides against him, and that made Max wonder just how often it happened. He hid his smile, not wanting to annoy Michael or Kyle, but as he remembered just how close Amy DeLuca and Jim Valenti were getting in the past, he suspected that perhaps Kyle and Maria were quite a bit like brother and sister now.

"Then what are they?" Kyle asked, and Max watched as electricity sparked at the tips of his fingers, a silent threat.

The hybrid king blinked in confusion. Did everyone have alien powers now?

"They're Max and Liz," Michael answered simply.

"Max and Liz are dead," Maria spat, shaking her head. "Or have you forgotten that?"

"They're from the past," Michael explained.

"They don't look like they are from the past," Kyle answered sharply.

"Yeah... we're not really sure about that part," Michael admitted with a slight frown.

Max looked over at Liz again. She was staring at Maria and Kyle, her eyes wide with surprise and concern. He wondered, vaguely, how many more times they would be forced to do this, how many more accusations would be thrown their way before they were trusted and believed. He could not help but feel sorry for the future versions of his friends, for all they had been forced to endure, but he also did not like the fact that they were causing Liz emotional pain.

"So you don't know?" Kyle repeated, giving Michael an incredulous stare. "They could be skins!"

"They're not skins! I didn't say I don't know who they are, I said I don't know..."

"I heard you, Guerin, but it still doesn't explain why you would trust them when you obviously have no idea..."

"Shut up, Valenti!"

The pure rage behind the order was enough to force Kyle into silence, but he glowered at the hybrid General, still seething.

"Could someone please explain to me why they all suddenly seem to have alien powers?" Max asked finally, once he was sure that Kyle had opted to remain silence. He gestured towards Maria and Kyle as he spoke, but his eyes did not leave Michael.

"You'd think Khivar would have trained them better than that..." Maria muttered under her breath, and the annoyed glare from Michael was not enough to repress her obvious irritation at the situation.

"There is a lot they don't know," Michael said evenly. "They're from a time when we haven't really learned all of that yet."

Max looked past him, and realized abruptly that the strangers who had been sitting at the tables had now abandoned their food and come to circle them, observing the conversation with open interest. There was suspicion in many of their eyes, but some also seemed to gaze upon him with awe and respect. Once they he caught them looking, however, they quickly averted their eyes, refusing to meet his steady gaze.

"I still don't think we should trust them..."

"Nobody cares what you think, Valenti."

"_I_ care what he thinks, Space Boy."

"Maria..."

"What? I'm not allowed to value his opinion?"

"I never said that. Stop putting words in my mouth."

"You might not have said it, but it was what you were thinking."

"You don't know that!"

"Yes, I..."

"_Stop it_."

The two words were stated firmly, but in a tone so quiet that Max was at first not sure if he had not simply imagined them. He started, looking around in surprise, trying to seek out the owner of the voice. Who could speak so softly, and yet still carry such authority in his voice?

His searching eyes landed on Alex Whitman and widened in surprise.

Alex walked forward, coming in between Michael and Maria. He looked at the others gathered, his gaze stern as he said, "Leave us, please. We will let you know the outcome of this meeting when it has been determined."

The fifteen-or-so others obeyed without question, although a few left lingering looks of curiosity behind as they drifted away.

"Alex?" Liz breathed.

He looked at her for a moment, his eyes still hard. "You might be Liz," he admitted slowly, "but until I determine that for sure, you have no right to address me so casually. Particularly if you are an enemy shape-shifter."

"I'm not!" Liz protested, her expression registering hurt at his blunt refusal to speak to her.

"We'll see," Alex answered with a shrug. Turning to Michael, he added, "Maybe we should discuss this in a more private place?" And although the suggestion was phrased as a question, it was clear from his tone that it was not a request.

Michael did not seem pleased by the order, but he nodded slowly. "Follow me," he said sharply, and the others followed as he lead the way through another set of doors, down another hallway, and into another, smaller, room.

"News will spread quickly," Alex murmured under his breath. And although the words were probably only meant for Michael's ears, Max still caught them, and wondered at the concerned tone. The blue-eyed man's next words, however, explained the source of unease. "How long until the rumors reach Khivar, do you think?"

"Quickly," Michael muttered in reply. "But they are who they say they are."

"Are they?" Alex answered quietly, questioningly.

"Why are you so eager to ignore what Michael has told you?" Max demanded, growing weary of the entire situation. He could tell Liz was still upset by her friends' reaction to her presence, and he knew if Liz's discomfort were to turn to tears, he would lose his temper at them. "Do you really think Michael would have brought us here if we were not really Max and Liz?"

"You could have tricked him," Alex retorted coolly.

"Or we could have convinced him that we were telling the truth," Max countered. "Which we are!"

"And let's suppose, for a moment, that we do believe you," Maria challenged icily. "Tell us how you got here."

"Ava came to the past," Liz spoke up quickly. "She said she needed our help. That the future needed our help. She brought us back here. With the Granolith."

Alex jerked his head towards Michael so quickly that Max thought he might have snapped his neck. "Is that why the pod chamber was destroyed last night?"

Michael nodded wordlessly.

"I don't understand," Kyle muttered with a frown.

To which Michael replied sarcastically, "What a surprise!"

"Would you care to explain it to him?" Maria shot back, her tone laced with heat. "Go ahead, tell him all about energy discharge and whatever that stupid physics theory is..."

Before the argument could go any further, Alex interjected, "To use the Granolith, Kyle, you need to activate a large amount of energy. That sets off an opposite reaction, a discharge of negative energy that absorbs the magnetic field of any organic or inorganic material in the near vicinity, as determined by the coefficient of the Hoffman's Curve."

"Huh?"

Alex sighed, rolling his eyes. "Activating the Granolith makes the pod chamber go boom."

"Oh."

"Ava brought you here?" Maria asked suspiciously, frowning at Liz.

"Yes."

"Via the Granolith?"

"Yes."

"What had happened prior to that?"

"Um... I went to that psychic. Madam Vivien. She told me that Max would choose love, not destiny."

"Not that twisted version of Destiny that wasn't even true," Michael grumbled.

"Well, what did you expect?" Kyle pointed out with a shrug, "she was a skin."

"Madam Vivien was a skin?" Liz repeated, surprised.

"She was being possessed by skins," Michael answered, shaking his head at Kyle. "Not the same thing as actually being a skin. She was merely being used by Khivar's people to gain closer contact with us..."

"Whatever. She was working for the enemy."

"She was not working for the enemy. She was possessed against her will. She was not..."

"Oh, who cares?" Alex snapped, interrupting yet again. "Can we please focus on the problem at hand?" He waved vaguely at Max and Liz, still regarding them with a suspicious look.

"What do you want us to say, Alex?" Max asked heatedly. "What would I need to tell you for you to believe me? I don't even know why exactly I am here, except that I wanted to help my daughter. I can't answer most of your questions, and I certainly have no idea what it is you are talking about most of the time. But I am not a skin! And neither is Liz."

"Very heartfelt, I see," Alex replied calmly. "But I won't take your word for it. I need proof before I even begin to consider you a friend."

"This would not be happening if Isabel wasn't dead," Max said snidely, slanting a look at Liz. "She would have known I was really her brother. She would have believed me."

He saw the look that passed between Maria and Michael, saw the way Alex lowered his eyes, and wondered just what he wasn't being told. But before he could pursue that topic, Alex had turned away from him. He stepped forward, reaching out to catch the man's arm, wanting to demand an explanation, or at least something that would clear up the matter for himself and Liz.

He did not expect to have himself and Alex thrown headlong into a flash.

_"You are worried."  
_

_It was not a question, but Zan answered it anyway, looking up at his beautiful wife with a sad smile. "Very, my love. Khivar worries me."  
_

_She stepped towards him, resting a hand on his arm. "You are stronger than he is. You are beloved by your people. His power comes from fear. He cannot win against us."  
_

_Zan shook his head slowly. "It is not so simple, Ava. He... he wishes for Vilandra's hand in marriage."  
_

_Ava gaped. "But... Vilandra is betrothed to Lord Ansem." Although the life-commitment ceremony would not be held until their wedding day, it was clear to anyone who observed the two that Princess Vilandra and Lord Ansem were desperately in love. How could Khivar even hope to break up such a union?  
_

_"Indeed," Zan agreed coldly. He sighed, turned away from Ava and looked towards the window, towards the darkening sky. "But a marriage between Khivar and Vilandra would mean that he would no longer have a reason to fight me. We would be part of the same family, and perhaps that would end the civil war."  
_

_"A tie with Lord Ansem is strong as well," Ava countered, wrinkling her nose slightly at the fact that they were discussing Vilandra's marriage and future happiness as though it could be bought and sold.  
_

_"Not as strong," Zan replied seriously, looking at her briefly. "Ansem supports me already, there is no need to tie his fate to my family." He smiled at his wife's discouraged expression and added, "Fear not, my love. I would never use my sister as a pawn in this power struggle."  
_

_"No," Ava agreed. "But Lord Ansem and Vilandra are both good people, and they would put aside their own love without reservations if you believe that this is the way to stop the civil war. They care more for this planet than for their own happiness."  
_

_"True. And a match with Khivar could bring peace..."  
_

_"Do you really believe that?" a man asked, stepping through the doorway and into the King's private study.  
_

_"No, Rath," Zan muttered, discontent. "No, I do not. Khivar does not want Vilandra, he wants the throne. And he will stop at nothing to take it from me."  
_

_The General nodded sternly, looking between the two monarchs. It was rare that anyone entered the King's study without being asked first, but he was one of the few who dared to do so. His close friendship with the King allowed him leniency in many things.  
_

_"Then what will you do, Zan?" Ava murmured, wrapping her arms around his waist.  
_

_"I will proceed as planned with Vilandra's wedding to Ansem," Zan answered simply.  
_

_"And what will you do about Khivar?"  
_

_"It is time that you gather the support of the other worlds," Rath suggested. "You have King Larek's backing, but that will not be enough in an all-out war. However, Queen Ava's childhood friendship with King Karan may perhaps bring Queen Tarea to your side, and then you shall have Tel' Ar on your side as well."  
_

_"It is a good plan," Zan answered after some thought. "My love, can you arrange a conference with King Karan?" Ava nodded, and while she hurried away to put the latest plans into motion, Zan turned to his closest friend and most trusted advisor and asked with a boyish grin, "And how about your own love, Rath? How fares the lovely Rain?"  
_

_Rath flushed darkly, but his eyes took on a gentle look as he answered, "She is well."  
_

_"And have you found the courage to propose yet?" At Rath's confounded expression, Zan laughed and said with a good-natured grin, "Do not be so surprised. Anyone who has seen your face when you speak of her knows how in love you are."  
_

_Rath looked, if possible, even more embarrassed, and Zan chuckled knowingly._

Max blinked slowly and dropped his hand to his side. Liz was in front of him a moment later, her brown eyes filled with worry and compassion as he lifted a hand to his head and tried to force away the dull headache that had formed. Alex was pale, nearly sheet-white, and simply stared at Max with an open mouth.

"Max?" Liz whispered.

"Alex?" Maria asked.

"It's him," Alex said after a moment. "It's really Max."

"Are you sure?" Maria asked breathlessly.

Alex nodded. "Positive. There was no way that was a mind-warp."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you all along!" Michael protested in exhaustion.

But Maria was not listening. Her eyes had passed over Alex and Michael, and now rested solely on Liz. For a moment, she did absolutely nothing, and then she suddenly burst forward, letting out a shriek of pure, unadulterated joy, and threw her arms around Liz's shoulders.

Max blinked again.

Kyle stepped forward, extending a hand. "Good to see you, Evans," he said with an honest grin. "You have no idea how good it is to see you."

"Uh..." Max shook his hand, but could not think of a coherent sentence to utter in response. He merely gaped at the others as their expressions changed from cool distrust to incredulous and fiercely protective happiness. Michael was patting him on the back and then hugging Liz, and Maria was suddenly hugging him, and then he thought he might of been hugging Alex, and Kyle was hugging Liz, and then Maria was hugging him _again_...

"Guys?" Liz interrupted the moment, pulling away from them with tears in her eyes. She gave a tremulous smile, then said a little hesitantly, "I do have some questions."

And the atmosphere sobered immediately.

But before Liz could actually ask a question, the door to the room opened and a dark-haired, dark-eyed teenager entered. "Dad," he asked, "why is Zan convinced that we've been invaded by skins...?" But the question trailed off as he caught sight of Max and Liz, and he raised a hand, preparing to attack.

"Not again!" Max mumbled as ice crystals began to form on the boy's hand.

"Skylar, don't!" Kyle ordered.

"Why not?" the boy, Skylar, demanded. "Why are you protecting them, Dad?"

"Dad?" Liz echoed.

"Who are you?" Skylar hissed, facing Liz.

"Skylar!" Kyle had placed himself between his son and Liz, trying to keep the teenager from attacking the two past visitors. "Listen to me..."

"No."

"Skylar..."

"I cannot believe you would let them in here! Mom never would have made this mistake, would she? She would have known that they were the enemy and killed them on sight!"

"Mom?" Liz asked.

"Yeah, you know, Tess Harding, otherwise known as Tarea, Queen of Tel'Ar, murdered by Khivar?" Skylar sneered. "Surely you've heard of her, seeing as your boss had her killed when I was just a baby!"

"Skylar," Kyle yelled, the sheer volume of his voice catching his son's attention, "stop this now!"

"No!"

"They are really Max and Liz," Maria offered, trying to calm down the irate teenager. "I promise."

"Yeah, right." Skylar shot back sarcastically. He had not lowered his hand, and he appeared ready to launch his ice-attack at Max and Liz. Kyle still had not moved out of his way, but he began to push around his father, trying to reach Liz.

"Skylar, please..." Alex started, but Skylar whirled around to face him.

"No! Max and Liz were killed when I was a kid. I remember it, okay? I remember them dying, so these two shape-shifters certainly cannot be them!" And without another word, he turned and marched from the room.

Another teenager was standing in the doorway, staring at them. She watched as Skylar left, then turned blue-eyes to Alex. Her dark hair partially hid her face from view, but Max could still see the uncertainty in her eyes as she asked softly, "Dad?"

"It's fine, Vilandra," Alex said. "It's really Max and Liz. From the past."

Vilandra nodded. She appeared to be the same age as Skylar, perhaps eighteen or so, but her expression did not harbor any of his resentment or anger. Instead, she merely stared at them, the slightest bit of suspicion mingling with confusion and longing. "You're really... you?"

"Yes," Max answered. The girl had called Alex 'Dad,' which he assumed meant that Isabel was her mother. Which would make her his niece. He tried to give a friendly smile, hoping that she would respond to the effort, but she just regarded him with a pensive look.

"How?" she asked finally.

"Ava brought them forward in time," Alex replied. "They arrived last night."

Vilandra gave him a sharp look. "Last night?"

"We were going to tell you..." Maria started.

"When?"

"We only just found out ourselves a few minutes ago," Alex explained, sounding apologetic. "Apparently Ava did not feel the need to inform us of her plan, and Michael did not feel the need to send us a message last night saying that..."

"Our enemies could have intercepted it," Michael snapped.

"You sent a message to Kal," Kyle retorted.

"Yes, because we needed his help to..."

"How long have they been here?" Vilandra interrupted, raising her voice so that she could be heard over the bickering. "How long have they been in this building? Fifteen minutes? Twenty? Half an hour?" She paused, moving her gaze around the room. "When were you going to tell me, exactly? When were you going to tell Skylar, Zan, and myself?"

"We only just confirmed that they were really Max and Liz," Alex answered.

"So you had plans to tell us soon, right?" Vilandra asked, meeting his gaze and refusing to back down. "You weren't going to just keep us in the dark, were you?"

"Vilandra..."

"Why didn't you tell us the moment they arrived? Why didn't you tell us before you knew who they really were?" She turned to Michael as she asked the question. Her voice was neither upset nor angry, but simply soft and disappointed, as though she had expected for things to be different.

Michael did not flinch at her question. He answered, "It was my decision to make, Vilandra."

"Was it?" Vilandra asked. "He was my mother's brother, you know." She switched her gaze to Max, giving him a brief look before turning to Michael again. "Sometimes I think you forget that he and Aunt Liz and Auntie Tess were our family as well. Mine, and Skylar's, and Zan's, and Ava's."

"We were just trying to protect you," Alex said.

She looked at him. "You can't." And she walked from the room.

"Ava, Zan, Skylar, and Vilandra," Liz murmured.

"The next generation," Maria said. "Our children. Vilandra is... quiet. But stubborn. Firm. And smart. She got her father's brains. Skylar's got a temper, a real one. He's a lot like Kyle, with a little bit of Tess' personality thrown in. Zan is... Zan is basically a miniature of Michael."

"And Ava?" Max prompted.

Maria smiled at Liz. "Ava is you. Completely and in every way. Sometimes, I look at her and I think I can barely tell the difference between her and you at that age."

"Not completely," Kyle countered. "She's got some fire that Liz doesn't have."

"Are you going to...?" Liz gestured vaguely with one hand towards the door, the rest of her question remaining unasked.

But Alex seemed to understand what she was trying to question, and he shook his head. "No. Ava and Zan probably need some time to work out their argument, and Vilandra is the best one to talk to Skylar. She'll calm him down, get him to start acting rational again..." He looked over at Michael, grinning, "and then Zan, Vilandra, and Skylar will band together against you, and you probably want to have a very good reason for why you didn't call them last night, or the moment you arrived here this morning."

Michael glared back, and said, "Maybe they'll be mad at Ava."

"They will," Maria agreed, "but they'll get over it. They adore her. You, on the other hand... yeah, Alex is right. You're going to need a pretty good justification if you ever want your nieces and nephew to speak to you again."

Michael fumed quietly.

"They seem like good kids," Liz remarked.

Maria flushed with pride. "The very best," she answered.

There was a silence, then...

"So... questions?"

* * *

They had settled into yet another room. Max had wondered, at some point, if he should ask exactly why they were moving around so much. But it was as though the others could not stay still, could not linger in any one place for more than a few minutes at a time. He wanted to ask what they were so afraid of, but he knew already that he would not like the answer.

Liz was perched on the edge of the sofa, sitting across from him. Michael was pacing restlessly, but Maria seemed content to sit next to Liz, her arm wrapped tightly around the brunette's shoulders. Alex sat on the other side of Liz, looking just a little bit more relaxed than he had before. Kyle stood behind Alex, leaning against the sofa.

Max shifted his stance, resting his back on the firm wall, watching the others quietly.

Michael was talking, trying to explain, and none of it made sense.

"So... you're saying we're all hybrids?" Liz asked tentatively. "But... _no_. That's not possible."

Just a little while ago, Max knew, neither of them had believed that Liz was a hybrid or that Ava was their daughter or that time travel was possible. But that had all been disproved by the events of the past day. And yet... still... it seemed almost unbelievable, all that Michael was saying.

"We were just as surprised as you are now," Maria said helpfully, smiling a little at Liz's confusion. "Actually, when it first started, I was more terrified than anything else."

"Oh, is the great DeLuca admitting to being frightened?"

Maria rolled her eyes and pushed Alex playfully. He laughed in response, and the interaction was so simple, so commonplace, that Max felt himself being lulled into a feeling of security and acceptance.

He quickly jolted himself out of it.

"I agree with Liz," he said, even though he knew he had already partially-accepted their strange story.

Kyle snorted. "What a surprise," he drawled, rolling his eyes. But his tone was laced with amusement, and held none of the jealousy or anger that Max had grown so accustomed to. It seemed that Kyle had finally forgiven him for all the lies.

Maria, correctly interpreting Max's thoughtful expression, said, "It took a while. And somewhere around the end of or junior year of high school, I was pretty sure Kyle was never going to speak to us again." She shifted, and Max caught the undercurrent of unease in her body language. Whatever the rift had been, it was obvious it had been something large enough to tear apart the group.

And while Max was not sure that he wanted to know the details, Liz apparently had no reservations about asking. She turned to Kyle with a curious gaze, and demanded, "Why?"

Kyle flinched at the unintended coldness of her tone, but when he answered, his words were unapologetic. "Well, there was the point where my father lost his job because of all of you. And then there was that time that, even after he had lost his job, his dignity, and his pride, Max still asked us to help him out. And then when Tess and I started dating..." He trailed off and grinned at Maria, who laughed outright in response.

"I am not going to apologize for that!"

"You don't feel even the littlest bit of guilt?"

"Nope."

"Uh... guys? You're going to need to fill us in on the story," Max interjected quietly, looking between the two bantering friends.

Maria sighed. "When Tess and Kyle started dating towards the end of our junior year, Jim Valenti decided that Tess couldn't stay with them anymore. He said it just wasn't appropriate for two hormonally-charged teenagers to date while living under the same roof. So he asked my mom if Tess could stay with us."

Liz nearly choked on her own laughter.

"Yeah," Maria agreed, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes, "that was my response too. But my mom and Jim were pretty seriously dating at that point, so of course she agreed in a heartbeat..."

"And Maria went out of her way to make Tess miserable," Kyle cut in, glaring at her. "So, factor in the fact that I was already really angry at Max, and now Maria was being a pain..."

"She had it coming."

"...people started taking sides..."

"I still don't get why you all didn't side with me."

"Michael and Liz, obviously, sided with Maria. Alex tried to stay out of it. Isabel sided with Tess. Max got caught in between his girlfriend and his sister." Kyle shook his head slowly, eyes drifting past Max as he remembered something from long ago. The hybrid King could see that, although this whole incident might have bothered Kyle at the time, now he was remembering it with something akin to longing.

It was Alex who provided the insight to that strange anomaly in Kyle's character. "Remember when our biggest problem was something stupid like that? It was just such a typical teenage scenario, and we all got so worked-up over the entire thing..."

"How did it end?" Liz asked.

Michael answered, "Skins attacked Amy DeLuca one day while Maria and I were out on a date."

"It was not a date," Maria snapped, frowning at him. "You took me to your apartment and all we did was watch a movie. It wasn't even a good movie. It was James Bond."

"I like James Bond. And I was _not _going to watch Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants or whatever other stupid chick flick you wanted."

Liz turned to Alex, a grin tugging at the corners of her lips. "They haven't really changed, have they?"

"Not in the least," Alex replied.

"Anyway," Michael continued, now glaring at both his wife and her two best friends, "Tess was the only one there at the time, and she came to Amy's rescue and destroyed the skins. Amy, of course, panicked and then we had to explain everything to her and it was long and painful and I thought she was going to send us all to a mental institution..."

"But around that point, Maria did realize that Tess had a few redeeming qualities," Kyle quipped. "You know, like saving people's lives."

The friendly banter was suddenly gone, and Kyle and Maria exchanged meaningful looks. Michael folded his arms over his chest and looked away, and Alex said softly, "That was around the time that things started going downhill. By the end of our senior year of high school... it was just bad."

"So... can we go back and explain how all of us are hybrids?" Liz asked after a momentary lull in the conversation.

"I don't know what to tell you, Liz," Alex replied. "Turns out eight of us were sent from outer space. We were supposed to all be sent together, to the same place. But Nasedo screwed it up. He was being watched on Antar, and he couldn't do any damage to our pods. But he did insure that we separated. He divided all the couples because he needed to keep you and Max apart. Together you were almost unstoppable, and... well, he just needed to..." He wiped a hand over his face and sighed. "Sorry, I know I am not explaining this well."

"It's fine," Max said encouragingly, wanting the answers and knowing Alex was doing his best to give them.

"Why don't you start at the beginning," Liz suggested, "back on Antar."

"Okay. Well, we don't remember all of it. But..." Alex took a deep breath and launched into another attempt at an explanation. "You and Max were the king and queen of Antar. Michael was your second-in-command, the leader of the armies, and... sort of like a vice-King. He would take over if you died without an heir. And if Isabel didn't have children to inherit the throne."

"Why couldn't Isabel become the next ruler?"

"Because Antar was a patriarchal, sexist, chauvinistic..."

"Maria!"

"Sorry."

"Some of the planets in that system were patriarchal," Kyle interjected, "and some where matriarchal. One was a democracy. On Antar, only men could inherit. On Tel'Ar, only women could inherit."

"Anyway," Alex continued, nodding at Kyle's remark, "Michael was going to be married to Maria, who was a princess of another planet. Larek's planet, to be exact."

"You were Larek's daughter?"

"No, I was his niece," Maria answered. "He didn't have children. He never married."

"Alex was a noble of Antar. Perhaps the most powerful of the nobles, third only to Max and Michael. And, of course, he was betrothed to Isabel."

"And Kyle and Tess?"

"Kyle was also from Larek's planet. A noble. He and Liz were very good friends when they were younger, because Liz was educated on Larek's planet. They basically grew up together. Then Kyle married Tess, who was the Queen, and therefore complete ruler, of the planet of Tel'Ar."

"So you see Khivar's dilemma," Maria said, turning to Max. "You were the king of Antar, one of the most powerful planets in that system. Through Isabel, you had the support of the most powerful of Antar's nobles, and through Michael and Maria, you had the support of King Larek and his planet. Through Liz, you had the support of Kyle, which brought you the support of Tess and her planet. That would have made Antar, and you, almost unstoppable. And if he was going to take control of Antar, he had to make sure that none of us met up on Earth. We were too much of a threat."

"And for some reason that we can't quite fathom, he was absolutely terrified of what would happen if you and Liz found each other again."

Max rubbed his temples as he contemplated all that he had just learned. It was confusing, and it was giving him a headache. He could not even begin to wrap his mind around the fact that the eight of them made up a network of rulers from so many planets. Nor could he understand how Nasedo could betray them, or why Khivar was so afraid of clueless human-alien hybrids.

He did not understand war.

"Anyway, Nasedo managed to divide the pods into two groups of four," Michael continued, picking up the story as best he could. "We never did figure out why no one mentioned that the others were adopted. The... uh... Liz, your parents were killed before... before we realized that you were adopted. Then we had to go into hiding because the whole world went to hell, and by the time we... by the time we realized that... that..."

"That our parents were in danger, they were already dead," Alex finished in a brutally honest voice. "Jim Valenti is the only one still alive, and he's been incapacitated by the war."

Max looked sharply at Liz. Her eyes were filled with tears, tears for deaths that had not happened yet in the time they were from, but that could still cause so much pain. He moved towards her, but Maria had already pulled Liz into a tight hug, and so he stopped, standing back and letting the blonde pixie comfort her best friend.

"I'm sorry," Maria murmured.

Liz nodded. "Me, too," she whispered.

"We've lost a lot to Khivar," Michael said, his voice hardening into a tone of barely concealed rage, "but he has not won yet. And he won't."

"Ava told us he killed Isabel and Tess," Liz said in a muffled voice, turning towards Michael. "If he's managed to do that, to break some of the connections that you said made us so strong, hasn't he already won?"

Michael did not answer, but Max saw the conflicted expression that flickered briefly in his eyes. It was as though there was more he wanted to say, and yet could not quite bring himself to utter the words.

Whether or not Liz had seen that emotion, Max could not be sure, but she had a puzzled expression of her own. With her gaze focused on Michael, she said slowly, "You said... those people who tried to kill us in the desert, you said one of them was from Tel'Ar. That the people from that planet often fight with Khivar. As missionaries."

"Yes."

"But... you said that Tess was the Queen of Tel'Ar. Or, at least, that her past self had been the Queen of that planet."

"Yes."

Liz hesitated for a moment, then asked cautiously, "I don't understand. If Tess was the ruler of Tel'Ar, why would her people be fighting with the man who killed her?"

A complete silence met her question, and Max looked from Michael's hardened gaze to Maria's shuttered expression and had a feeling he did not want to know the answer. But when it came, it came from Alex, and it came with such simplicity and heartbreaking finality that Max was left gasping for breath at the revelation.

"Because Tess is not dead, Liz. And neither is Isabel."

"Then what are they?" Max interjected.

Alex met his gaze, eyes shadowed by grief. "They're the enemy, Max. They're _our _enemies."


	6. Denial and Desperation

Title: When Times Collide

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Summary: When Max and Liz's daughter comes to the past seeking help, two times collide in a desperate race to save the future.

* * *

Chapter Six: Denial and Desperation

The room was suddenly silent and still, but instead of a feeling of calm, the quiet only served to make it more all the more suffocating.

"Wh-what?" Max breathed, his voice shaking, unable to fully comprehend what he had been told. "What do you mean?"

Alex ran a hand wearily through his hair and glanced between his brother-in-law and his best friend. Max and Liz did not understand just how much their presences here were tearing him apart, and they probably never would. They did not know yet what it was like to lose someone you love, to watch them die, to see their broken bodies and know that they were truly gone. And they could not even begin to comprehend what it would feel like when those two suddenly reappeared, vibrant and young and so… alive.

He was happy to see them, he would not deny that. But a small part of him was already wondering what it would be like when they returned to their own time, to the past, and he had to lose them once more.

"Alex?" Liz murmured, reaching out to him with one tentative hand.

He met her gaze, his own blue eyes blinking back the tears.

"They… it's complicated." He licked his dry lips and glanced over at Michael and Maria for help, but the two just stared back, knowing there was nothing they could say to make this easier.

"Start at the beginning," Liz prompted, "and go on from there."

"The beginning." Alex gave a hollow laugh. It was so simple the way she said it, as though all he had to do was start talking and the words would somehow form themselves. But how was he supposed to explain to them what it felt like when the love of his life turned and joined the enemy?

He glanced again at Max. The hybrid king was not taking the news well. In fact, the initial shock seemed to have faded, but it would now replaced by disbelief and anger. Alex grimaced inwardly – they had all seen, firsthand, just how protective Max was of his sister, and there was no doubt in anyone's mind that he was already coming up with ways to refute anything he would hear.

"It started with Tess," Alex said finally. "Well, before Tess, really. With Nasedo and Khivar. They made a deal long before we hatched from our pods, before we were adopted into different families. Khivar offered Nasedo power and wealth if he would help finally end the war. And Nasedo agreed."

"Did Tess know?" Max asked quietly.

"No," Kyle interjected swiftly, frowning at Max.

"Kyle," Alex said with warning in his voice. Kyle subsided somewhat, still looking displeased by the conversation, and Alex supposed he could not really blame the other man for his feelings. When Tess had first betrayed them all, long before they realized the why of it, they had been angry, hurt, furious. And Kyle had often been at odds with them, refusing to believe that his wife could have turned so evil so quickly. Any mention of Tess, even the slightest indication that someone might be blaming her for what had happened, and Kyle became angry.

Still, Max had no way of knowing that, and it wasn't his fault that he wanted answers.

It wasn't Tess' fault, not really. It wasn't anyone's fault besides Khivar and Nasedo. They had done this, they had torn apart the small group.

"While Nasedo had Tess with him, he did his best to convince her that she was really Ava, and that she was really meant for Zan… for Max. She was young, impressionable, easily swayed to believe that. He did something else to her… to her mind. We don't know exactly what he did, or how, but he made it easy for her to be controlled."

"Controlled?" Liz echoed.

"We didn't know… didn't discover until it was too late…" Kyle muttered, looking away. A moment of silence fell at his words, and sympathy flickered across Maria's face. She took a step towards him, but stopped, and sighed, dropping her gaze. She knew, as did Alex and Michael, that Kyle was not yet ready to accept their comfort. He still blamed himself for everything he had never been able to do, all the people he could not save, Tess most of all.

"Khivar knew that if he could get Max and Tess to sleep together, if Tess became pregnant…" Alex trailed off for a moment, trying to think of the best way to phrase this without sounding to crass. "A child would be very useful leverage. There would be little Max would not do to protect his son or daughter. In addition, because full ruling rights for Antar would pass through Max to a male heir, and full ruling rights for Tel'Ar would pass through Tess to a female heir, regardless of the gender, the child would control the throne of one of the two most powerful planets. It didn't matter to Khivar which planet, it only mattered that he would have a weapon to use against Max and a way to seize the more power. And because Nasedo had destroyed the part of Tess' mind that could stand against outside influence and control, it would not be at all difficult for Khivar to take her child and her free will."

"It was a good plan," Michael added in a growl, his eyes flashing. "Khivar was nothing if not smart. And ruthless."

"But it didn't work," Maria said with satisfaction. "Well, not completely," she amended with a little sigh.

"No," Alex agreed, "it did not go the way they thought it would. Khivar hadn't counted on Kyle and Tess falling in love. And they did, eventually. At some point along the way, Khivar attacked, Roswell fell, we all had to flee, and Tess got pregnant."

"We were in hiding then," Maria added, grinning. "And we all know now what Kyle and Tess were doing to pass the time…"

Kyle flushed darkly and snapped, "Yeah, and what were you and Michael doing, DeLuca? Or was Zan an immaculate conception?"

"Zan in four years younger than Skylar, Valenti," Maria shot back. "At least Michael and I actually waited until we were _adults_…"

"What makes you think you're adults now? Are you really that oblivious to the maturity level of the man you married?"

"Hey!" Michael snapped, glowering at Kyle.

Alex watched the interchange and gave Maria the tiniest wink. She nodded in return. Kyle's sour expression had faded, and the bickering had brought some color back into his eyes. It might not have been enough to completely erase memories of Tess, but it was enough to make him smile again.

Liz laughed a little, then asked, "How long were you… we… in hiding for?"

"Um… several years, off and on. Roswell fell the summer after graduation, and we went on the run. For a while, we did are best at guerrilla warfare. We got some more help when Larek managed to make contact, and then with Kal… after a while we were forced into hiding again, though, and it was then that…"

"Who is Kal?" Max interjected. "He rescued us, right? He was the one driving the car?"

Maria and Alex exchanged sardonic looks as Michael answered glumly, "He's a jerk, is what he is."

"He's one of our protectors," Kyle explained, shaking his head. "Like Nasedo, only not crazy and evil. But he hates us. A lot. I think he'd rather be spending all his time eating lemons."

"Uh… okay," Max replied, although it was obvious that his question was not answered.

"Anyway, at that point we were in hiding again – this was about eighteen years ago, Skylar had just been born, and Isabel was a few months pregnant as well – when Tess got kidnapped. At least, we thought she got kidnapped. It's a little hard to know at this point." Alex hesitated, then said with in a heavy tone, "I suppose the how doesn't really matter anymore. All we know if that we did find her again, a little while later. She was badly hurt, we thought she might have been tortured… but no one thought to make sure her mind was her own. And it turned out it wasn't. We took her back to our hiding place – it was a new one since she'd left – and tried to help her get better. But she…"

"She was Khivar's," Michael supplied when Alex was unable to go on any further. Alex shot the General a thankful look, and sank slowly onto the nearby chair, only barely listening to Michael's words. "Completely. We didn't realize it until it was too late… And by that time, she'd already led the skins to us and done something to Isabel… made Isabel into… well…"

Michael, too, had to stop, and Alex gave him a scrutinizing look. From Liz's brief explanation, Alex knew that they had not yet met Lonnie and the other Dupes, and so there was no good way to explain just what Isabel had been capable of becoming. But she was Lonnie now, she was just as cruel, just as callous, just as terrifying as her dupe had been.

"Into what?" Max demanded harshly.

"Do you know the story of Vilandra?" Alex asked softly. "I don't think you would have learned it yet." Max and Liz just stared at him, and so Alex rose to his feet and said, "I'd better show you. I don't think I can really… explain it." And he reached out for Max and Liz, hands extended before him.

Reluctantly, but still curious, they took his hands. Alex concentrated, and then…

"_Ansem? What are you doing here so early, my love? I was not expecting you for several more hours," Vilandra remarked, rising to greet the man who had just entered the room. It was mid-afternoon, and he was supposed to be in a conference with Zan and Rath. She gave him a quizzical stare, trying to figure out why he might have left them._

"_Did you know Khivar has asked for your hand in marriage?" Ansem demanded._

_Vilandra took a step back, surprised by the thunderous expression on her usually gentle and mild-mannered love. "I… well, yes. I did. Zan told me yesterday. You must know my brother would never agree to that."_

_Ansem began pacing, nearly shaking with pent-up rage. "Khivar must have thought their was a chance, Lonnie. He is smart enough to know not to ask for the impossible. He must have thought…"_

"_But Zan would never have me marry anyone against my own will," Vilandra interrupted, coming to her brother's defense. She tried to take hold of Ansem's arm, but he pulled away from her, blue eyes wild with frustration. "Ansem?" she whispered, shocked and upset by the look on his face._

"_Why does he want you so?"_

_Vilandra shrugged. "Ansem, whatever relationship Khivar and I once had has long since been over. Surely you know that?" she answered, wondering if it was jealousy that had her betrothed in such a frenzy. "I love you. I have let go of Khivar and all that he might have once meant to me."_

"_But he has not let go of you," Ansem retorted, taking her hands in his. He fought for a moment to make his voice gentler, to get his emotions under control. "Lonnie, I do not say this out of any jealousy or out of mistrust of you. I am afraid, yes, but not_ _of you. For you. Khivar wants you back."_

"_As a means to my brother's throne."_

"_As more than that," Ansem countered, dropping her hands and sitting on the edge of the loveseat that was placed underneath the window. Vilandra knelt before him, resting her hands on his knees, worry etched into all the lines of her beautiful face. "He wants you back," Ansem said again, unable to shake the panic that gripped his heart._

"_And I have my brother, Rath, and you… Three brave and courageous men who will not let him take me. And I am strong on my own, Ansem. I can take care of myself."_

_He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "I fear you underestimate him, my love. Khivar is dangerous."_

"_I know. I fear him, too."_

"_Not nearly as much as you should," Ansem murmured in light rebuke. "You see yourself as nothing more than a means of gaining more power. Do you not see that it is more than that? He is infatuated with you!"_

"_As what, love? Not as a woman, surely. He sees me as a way to destroy my brother. He sees me as the only woman who has ever turned down his charms for another man. He sees me as many things, but it is not myself as an individual that he wants. It is his pride, his ego, his greed that drives him into this. That is why he has asked for my hand in marriage. But Zan will never give it to him, and you know that he will never have my heart."_

_Ansem rested his hand on her cheek. "And yet still I am afraid, beloved."_

Alex dropped his hands and blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay. He did not have many memories of his life on Antar, but memories of Isabel… of Vilandra… were always so vivid, so full of emotion.

"Khivar and Vilandra were lovers?" Max asked hesitantly.

"When they were young," Alex whispered, "before Ansem and Vilandra met. Vilandra broke it off eventually, when it became clear that Khivar was going to start a war against her brother… and Khivar never really let go of that. Of her. He wanted her back, and now…"

"He has her," Michael finished, because Alex was too overcome with grief to speak. His skin had lost all color, and he sank back onto the chair, shaking. Michael watched him for a moment, then turned to Max and added, "Tess mind-warped Isabel. We think Khivar did something to her as well. She… she married him. She turned… dark. Twisted. She is _his_ Queen, now."

"And Tess…?" Liz breathed.

"Same. Twisted, dark, evil. A powerful ally of Khivar's. And her planet will follow her. So Khivar never did get the kid he wanted, never did get a child from Max and Tess… but it doesn't matter. He still got more than he could have dreamt of."

"No." It was Max's voice, a single word, sharp and to the point. He was glowering at Alex, shaking his head. "You're wrong. Isabel would never…"

"No," Alex interrupted. "Isabel would never do that. But she _isn't_ Isabel anymore. I don't know what she is. I don't even recognize her."

"Well why haven't you rescued her yet?" Max hissed, flushing with anger. "Why are you hiding here instead of saving her?"

"Don't you think we've tried that?" Alex retorted, a momentary spark of fury dancing in his eyes. "Don't you think we've tried our damnedest to get her out of this mess? To save her and Tess?"

"Well, all you seem to be doing right now is hiding like scared…"

"Maxwell, we've done a lot more than you could imagine," Michael said sharply, glaring at his friend. "We all tried to save her. But we can't. She doesn't want to be saved, neither of them do, and I don't… we don't know how to reverse what Khivar and Nasedo did. We don't know how to stop it!"

"Well, figure it out!"

"We're trying to!"

"Not hard enough. You've had _eighteen_ years! It can't be impossible. Isabel is still in there somewhere, and she wants to get out. I _know_ she wants to come back."

"Stop it! All of you, stop!" Liz yelled, her voice rising over all the others.

Alex looked at her. Her brown eyes were filled with tears, her cheeks streaked with the telltale signs of crying. She was trembling, overcome with the horror of the story. But her expression was hard and filled with determination, and for a moment Alex saw the brief glimmer of the Liz she would become, the Queen, the warrior.

Max lapsed into silence, still smoldering with rage and desperation.

Then Liz asked softly, "I don't understand. Why did Ava tell us that Tess and Isabel were dead?"

It was Kyle who answered. "Because that is what they believe. That's what we told them." Liz gaped at him, and he added, "Skylar was only about six months old when Tess was finally lost to us, and Vilandra was only two months when Isabel was taken. They don't remember their mothers. So we told them… that they were dead."

"But… _why_?"

Alex ran a hand through his hair, wondering how he was going to explain this to her. Neither Max nor Liz had particularly liked being left out of the loop, and he had no doubt that they would not be pleased that their daughter had been lied to for so long. But really… how could he have told his child the truth about her mother?

At last, he answered, "Because they are dead, Liz. Those things in their place… they are _not_ Isabel or Tess. The Isabel and Tess we knew and loved… our family… they're gone. Lost. Dead." He paused, choosing his words cautiously. "Khivar had a lavish wedding for himself and Isabel. He wanted the world to know that he had married someone powerful, someone strong and beautiful and…" He choked on his own words and lapsed into silence.

"The kids," Kyle said softly, picking up the story where Alex had left off, "know that he married. Just not the details. Ava was kidnapped by Khivar at one point after you… after you two died… but she never saw Isabel. No one even mentioned Isabel to her. We're not sure why… we thought Khivar would have wanted to gloat about it to her, gloat that he had her aunt on his side… but he didn't. I guess he had his reasons…"

"And what will happen when they find out?" Liz pressed. "If the entire world knows about Isabel…"

"But they _don't_ know, not really," Michael said forcefully. "They know that Khivar married someone of royal blood. But… most of this planet is still human, Liz. Most of the members of our Resistance against Khivar are human. They don't even fully understand who Khivar is or how he relates to us. They don't know our back-story. All they know is that Khivar wants to destroy their world and make it his own, and we're trying to stop him from doing that. But he has a lot of humans on his side as well, humans who think that we are the evil ones. Just because they don't know any better."

"And you can't just tell them?" Liz ventured diffidently.

Kyle snorted. "Yeah, right."

"They'd kill us on sight," Alex said quietly. "Don't you see this is so much more than just a little battle? We're fighting an entire war, and Khivar is using misinformation and propaganda and new technology to win. We're doing our best to fight him, but as long as people don't fully understand, as long as they don't know what is happening… it is the unknown that we all fear. It makes them terrified, ready to lash out at anyone and anything that is different…" His words had come faster, harder, as he continued, but he stopped then, out of breath, and lowered his gaze. "It's… hard."

"Then we need to take the fight to Khivar. Stop him. Kill him, and we can worry about the rest of the world later," Max said firmly, determination evident in his stance.

"Haven't you been listening to anything we just said, Evans?" Kyle asked harshly, rolling his eyes. "It isn't that easy."

"I didn't say it would be easy," Max replied coolly. "But I'm still going to do it."

"How? How exactly do you plan on getting close enough to Khivar to kill him?" Kyle shot back, flushing slightly. "I get that you want to save the world. I get that you want to rescue Isabel and Tess. But how are you going to do it? You don't even understand what you are fighting!"

"Of course I do!"

Kyle caught Max by the arm. "Evans, listen to me. Just… shut up and listen to me for one minute, okay?" Max hesitated, then gaze a reluctant nod, and Kyle continued, "Isabel is not Isabel anymore. And if you face her in a fight, she _will_ try to kill you. Would you be willing to kill her to save your life?"

"_What_? No, of course not!"

"Would you be willing to kill her to save Liz?"

"I…"

Max faltered, and Kyle said swiftly, "I know how you feel, because I have to ask myself those same questions every time I think about going out on a mission. Max, if Tess sees me, she will try to kill me. And I might need to kill her… to kill the woman I love more than anything else in this entire universe… in order to save myself or to save one of you." He stopped, drew a shaky breath. "This isn't easy, it isn't simple, and it isn't black and white. This is _war_, and if you want to fight with us, then you need to understand what it is you are fighting against. You need to understand that there is no clear-cut wrong or right anymore. Nothing is that simple."

Max nodded again. "I… I understand."

Kyle sent him a piercing look. "Do you?" he questioned. "I'm not so sure. But make sure you do understand before you decide to go out there. You might come out of it physically intact, but your soul…? That's a whole different ballgame."

Max pulled his arm out of Kyle's grip, gave him a hard stare, and then walked from the room, his footsteps echoing in the silence that was left behind him.

_

* * *

  
_

Ava pulled her knees into her chest and stared at the people before her. Her position sitting on the bed did not give her a height advantage over any of them, which was unfortunate. Skylar looked furious, and he was standing directly before her, towering over her slight frame. Behind Skylar, stood Zan, who seemed more hurt than angry. But his dark eyes were filled with an emotion she could not quite identify, and she had a feeling he hadn't forgiven her yet either. And then there was Vilandra, her face blank, her gaze never wavering from Ava's face, even as she stood near the doorway to the room, leaning idly against the wall.

"Guys, I don't understand why you're so upset…" Ava started hesitantly.

"Really?" Skylar drawled, cutting in before she could even finish her thought. "Well, there is the whole not telling us you had a recklessly stupid plan to go back in time. There's the actually going back in time and bringing your parents forward thing. There's the not consulting with anyone before making a decision that could pretty much completely alter our lives…"

"Don't you think you're being a little overdramatic?" Ava suggested softly, giving Skylar a pointed look.

But Skylar did not back down. "Do you think I'm being too dramatic, Zan?" he asked, turning to his friend for help. "Or you, Vilandra? Do you think it is too dramatic to wonder if maybe Ava could have gotten herself killed? Or someone screwed up our future even more? Even the smallest change in the past could negatively affect…"

"I was careful!"

"Not careful enough," Skylar snapped, "or you would have at least checked with someone before using the Granolith."

"And have to deal with them trying to stop me?" Ava countered.

"It might not have been a bad idea to have at least one other person know what you were trying to do, Ava," Vilandra said quietly, her voice barely above a murmur. "You know, in case something went wrong."

"Nothing did go wrong," Ava retorted, frustrated. She was not used to having the other three takes sides against her, was not used to having her actions questioned so closely.

"No, it didn't," Vilandra agreed, "which makes you lucky, not smart. It was reckless and careless, and what happened to use being a _team_?"

Ava inhaled slowly. She could take Skylar's anger, she could take Zan's hurt, but it was the disappointment in Vilandra's voice, the tiniest sense of betrayal that lingered in the words, that finally broke her stubborn wall. "I… I'm sorry. I was just trying to… help."

"By bringing back _your_ parents?" Skylar muttered. "Yeah, clearly you were trying to help…"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ava demanded sharply, not liking the insinuation.

"Well, they aren't the only people that are dead, are they?" Skylar answered coolly. "But I notice you made no attempt to bring _my_ mother to the future. Or Vilandra's mother. How much of your plan was based on wanting to help and how much was based on wanting to see your parents again?"

In the silence that followed that proclamation, Zan jumped to Ava's defense. "Skylar, that's not fair, and you know it. Ava is only trying to save the world. It isn't like she opted not to bring back Auntie Tess just to spite you."

Skylar licked his lips and nodded towards Zan. "Of course not. She just didn't even think of that possibility, did she?" His eyes swept towards Ava once more. "It never even occurred to you that maybe someone of us wanted to see our mothers again, too. Did it?"

"Is that what you're really angry about?" Ava asked incredulously. "The entire world is going to hell and you're hurt because you don't get to see Auntie Tess? You know what, Skylar? At least you still have one parent left alive! You're not an orphan, are you?"

"Oh, well… okay, then. I guess since my Dad is alive it doesn't really matter that my Mom is dead. That I have no memories of her. That I will never have the chance to see her _ever_ again. Really, that's not so important, is it? After all, who needs more than one parent?" Skylar snapped in response, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Stop it! Just stop it, both of you," Vilandra said wearily, rubbing her temple with one hand. "Yes, Ava should have told someone what she was doing before she went and did it. And maybe she should have thought to bring back my Mom and Auntie Tess. But she is just trying to help, and she was successful at bringing Aunt Liz and Uncle Max forward, so let's just focus on that, alright? We don't have the Granolith anymore, we can't change the past. It's done, so let's move on."

Ava nodded slowly, and Skylar gave a reluctant nod. Zan perched on the edge of the bed next to Ava and she leaned her head against his shoulder, suddenly feeling incredibly tired. The tiniest bit of doubt was plaguing her, asking why it had never occurred to her to bring Tess and Isabel to this time as well. She had convinced herself that they would never agree to come, that if she told anyone besides her parents they would end up having a long, unproductive meeting about what to do, and she knew that the world did not have time to waste on matters like that. But she also had not thought about Skylar or Vilandra, about how desperate they might be to see their mothers just once more.

"I am sorry," she said finally, glancing at Skylar.

As usual, her apologetic words were more than enough to melt Skylar's anger, and he shrugged. "Like Vilandra said, we can't change the past anymore. So we should focus on trying to save the present." A pause, then, "I know you're just trying to save us."

"So what now?" Zan asked, looking between the two.

Skylar shrugged again. "I guess we go talk to them. Figure out how to save the world."

Vilandra chuckled softly, "Easier said than done."

"Very few things worth having are ever easy to obtain," Ava murmured. "Why should this be any different?"

_

* * *

  
_

By the time Michael was able to track down Max again, the hybrid king had found his way to their library, and was sifting through the books with an expression of surprise on his face.

Michael stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. Max looked up briefly, but did not smile, did not say anything. He turned back to the books, running his finger of the covers.

Finally, he said, "I didn't picture a library here."

Michael nodded. "Yeah, well… there are a lot of people here who can't ever leave. Humans who sought refuge from Khivar, children and the elderly… People who can't fight. But they can't go out either, it puts them in too much danger. So, since they're stuck here, they did their best to make it… homey."

Max accepted this in silence, still staring at the bookshelves lining the room, at the rows of titles before him. Michael watched his friend with some concern, wishing their was something he could say to make this entire messy future make more sense. But he couldn't just explain what had happened, couldn't somehow ignore all that they had been through. He didn't like forcing it all on Max, on a boy who was still just sixteen years old, no matter what he looked like now.

It was Max who broke the silence. "How did this happen, Michael? How did I let it happen?"

"You didn't _let_ it," Michael answered honestly, "but you couldn't have stopped it either, Max. None of us could. We didn't see the danger until it was far too late."

"I should have…"

Michael sighed and shook his head. Had he still been in high school, he would have made some snide comment about how Max was not responsible for everyone everywhere, and to stop thinking that this was all about him. But back in high school, it had been Max's frustratingly slow decision-making, his need to think and rethink through every possible choice, that had nearly driven Michael insane. He'd been more reckless then, more eager for actions instead of words.

He hadn't suffered loss.

Time, and war, had served to mellow him somewhat. It had had the opposite effect on Max, bringing out the warrior, the fierce protector. They'd become more alike in temperament, although the differences did remain strong enough to lead to several arguments, with Isabel almost always caught in the middle.

Until she was gone.

Looking back, Michael couldn't help but yearn for the simplicity of his high school years. He had been naïve to think that rushing into everything was the best option, but at the time, nothing bad had happened yet. And now that he had felt the burdens of responsibility, now that he had been forced unwillingly to lead others in this war… he understood exactly why Max was always so reticent to move forward.

"I can't believe I wasn't able to stop this somehow," Max said under his breath.

"You tried," Michael offered. "Believe me, you tried. You wouldn't give up on anyone, least of all Isabel… But it wasn't enough. We weren't enough for her. Not against Khivar."

"So what do we do now?" Max asked. "Ava brought us here for a reason. What did she think we could accomplish?"

"I have no idea. Truthfully, Maxwell, I don't know how much of a difference it will make to have you here. We've lost so much… and I don't know if you and Liz will tip the scale back into our favor. But… you are here, and I think we need to take advantage of that."

"Do you think we could get Isabel back?"

Michael sighed again. The question was not unexpected, particularly considering Kyle had already informed him of Max's earlier desire to abandon them and seek out the wayward princess.

"You tried, Max. I don't think that is the best…"

"I can try again," Max interrupted fiercely. "We can all try. You, me, Alex, Liz… We can get Isabel back."

"And Tess," Michael added.

Max appeared momentarily thrown by the addition of the petite blonde, having evidently forgotten about her in his desperate desire to save Isabel. But eventually he nodded. "Yes. And Tess."

Michael looked away, not wanting to deal with Max's persistent denial. It seemed as though there was nothing he could say to make Max understand just how difficult of a scenario this was. Isabel was not some damsel in distress, she was not a fairy tale princess with no power and even less ability to defend herself. She was a threat, a very serious threat, and saving her would take more than anyone else seemed able to comprehend.

At this point, he wasn't even sure saving her was possible.

Isabel, under Khivar's manipulation and guidance, had done some truly terrible things. If she was forced to face those deeds, as Isabel and not as Khivar's puppet, would she be able to live with the consequences of her actions? Even if they were able to somehow free her from Khivar's control, would they be able to save her from herself?

His turbulent thoughts were cut off by the appearance of a redheaded woman who rushed into the room, green eyes flashing worriedly. "Michael!" she said, her expression flooding with relief as she caught sight of him. "I just received word from Kolbi. Khivar is on the move."

Michael inhaled sharply. "Where is he going, Serena?"

The woman, Serena, answered fearfully, "He learned of the safe-houses in Santa Fe. He's attacking there."

Michael swore under his breath. "But that's where…"

"I know," Serena agreed. "Kolbi thinks he figured it out. Somehow. We're not sure. But it is a vicious move, Michael. He's obviously trying to flush you out. He wants a fight."

"What's in Santa Fe?" Max asked, looking confused.

"It is a safety house for the elderly and children," Michael answered. "Our largest one in this region. It's well protected, well guarded. If Khivar is attacking there, it means he is trying to get us to fight back. He knows we won't just leave the helpless by themselves…" He slammed his fist into the wall, shaking his head. "He must know you're here, Max. He wouldn't be doing something this bold if he didn't want to raise the stakes. Bring us all out into the open."

"How would he know?" Max demanded hoarsely.

Michael shrugged.

Serena interjected, "Or he is just after you, Michael."

Michael nodded slowly, recognizing that it was a possibility. As the second-in-command behind Max, he currently posed a very serious threat to Khivar's claim to the throne of Antar. The skin king had been desperate to annihilate all threats, particularly the General, and this could simply be his way of doing that.

And yet… it was a very reckless move if Michael was the only intended target. A full-scale attack would be needed to breach the safe-house. Would Khivar really risk that much just for Michael?

The hybrid General realized that not only did he not know the answer to that question, but he also did not care. The only thing that mattered was that Khivar was attacking a safe-house which housed the elderly, children, invalids… and Laurie Dupree.


	7. Rash Decisions

Title: When Times Collide

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Summary: When Max and Liz's daughter comes to the past seeking help, two times collide in a desperate race to save the future.

* * *

Chapter Seven: Rash Decisions

Isabel studied her reflection in the mirror, scrutinizing her appearance. Long blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, and a few stray strands escaped and fluttered into her eyes. Her lips were quirked upwards into the tiniest smile of satisfaction.

"You look beautiful, as always, my dear," a low voice murmured.

Isabel turned towards the handsome man standing in the doorway. "Thank you, my love," she answered.

The man walked over to her and took a seat on the plush armchair, gesturing for her to do the same. Isabel acquiesced, sliding gracefully onto the loveseat opposite him.

"Do you feel anything… different?" the man asked.

Isabel raised one eyebrow questioningly. "Different how?"

He shrugged. "The pod chamber was destroyed last night. Someone used the Granolith."

Isabel narrowed her eyes. They glittered with dangerous triumph, with a sort of smirking that could only mean one thing; she was about to cause trouble.

"That explains it, then," she said softly.

He leaned forward eagerly. "Explains what?"

She rose languidly back to her feet and stepped away from him, crossing to the window. "All day I have felt something buzzing just around the edges of my conscious. A sensation I have not felt in a very long time." Staring out through the sparkling glass, she gazed at the deep blue sky. "He is here, isn't he?"

The man nodded, letting out a slow breath. "I suspected as much. But I do not know how. No one can raise the dead."

"What does he want?" she mused. "Besides your death, of course."

"I have feeling he wants more than that," he answered. "He wants what we all want." Leaning forward, he kissed softly. "He wants you," the man whispered.

Isabel pulled back, a feral smile on her lips. "Then let's give my brother what he wants," she suggested. She stepped away from him again and began to pace, her eyes alight with anticipation. "How long until he learns where I am? It won't be too long, I can tell you that much. The others won't keep it a secret."

"What do you propose?" the man questioned. "I don't like the idea of you going to him. It is too dangerous, for all of us."

Isabel laughed. "Oh, I am not going to go to him. I'm going to let him come to me. If he thinks he can _save_ me, as pathetic as he is, he won't pass up the opportunity to come seek me out." She paused, considering her options, then added, "You have dispatched some of the army to attack the safe-house in Santa Fe, correct?"

He nodded.

"You mean to draw out Michael by putting Laurie in danger." She licked her lips. "A good plan, the General always cared far too much for his human sister. But let's up the stakes, shall we? Let me join the attack. The news will spread quickly once I am seen. And soon, very soon, my brother will hear that I am there. And he will come to me. He will defy anyone and everyone that means to stop him… and he will come."

The man nodded. "Perhaps."

She crossed to his side and pulled him into an embrace, kissing passionately, heat flowing between them. "It is a good plan," she murmured. "Come on, Khivar, I have not seen my brother in years. Let me see him now."

Khivar sighed. "As you wish."

* * *

"There is only one reason Khivar would risk a full scale assault on this safe-house," the man snapped, glaring at the others gathered in the room, "and we all know what that reason is. Why don't we stop pretending otherwise and face the facts?"

"The facts are not so clear," another man replied in a softer tone, giving an apologetic look towards the one woman in the room. "And even if she is his target… what should we do about it? It is not as though we can just turn her over to him."

"Of course not," the first man sneered. "But why do we have to shelter her?" He extended his hands in a gesture of pleading to all the others. "Think about it. All she does is put us in danger. Why do we protect her when it is her fault that this is happening?"

"She is innocent," another man said, but his tone made it clear he was wavering in his decision.

"Ha! Innocent?" yet another man interjected, nodding his head in fierce agreement with the first man. "Hardly. This is not our war, and yet it is our blood that is spilled to protect people like _her_."

"Exactly," agreed the first.

The woman spoke up sharply, "I am standing right here. Stop speaking about me, Thomas, as though I am not in the room."

The first man who had spoken, Thomas, jerked his head in a mocking nod. "As you wish, Laurie," he said coolly. "Do you have any words of defense?"

"Defense?" Laurie asked incredulously. "I haven't done anything wrong!"

"No?" Thomas retorted. "You continually defend that freak friend of yours…"

"Michael is not a freak!" Laurie hissed viciously, her face flushing with anger. "And he is more than a friend. He is my brother, I will _not_ turn on him."

"He's not your brother," Thomas spat. "Those… those _things_… stole your grandfather's DNA and used it to make their own… _abominations_. That does not make him your family."

"Don't you dare talk about him like that…"

"Why not? Look what they've done to us! They've turned us into _weaklings_, forcing us to run and hide, or to serve them. You say your precious Michael is so much better than the other aliens? He's _not_! This is his war, and we're all _dying_ because of it, because he won't just face this Khivar. If he is as wonderful as you say, why are we paying the price for his cowardly actions?"

Thomas paused, breathing heavily, his chest heaving with the exertion of his volatile emotions. The others were slowly bending to his will, agreeing with his point of view.

Laurie shook her head in disgust. "It is his abilities that have protected this safe-house, protected all of us, for nearly two decades!"

"Yeah? A lot of good that is doing us now," came the answering snarl.

Laurie stormed from the room, filled with identical feelings of fury and despair. Unfortunately, Thomas' viewpoint was not uncommon among the humans who were protected by the Resistance. And she supposed she could not really blame them for their ignorance, given that they simply had no way of understanding just how cruel and vicious Khivar and his followers were. All they saw was the horrible death and destruction wrought by a war that had nothing to do with them, and they lumped all aliens into the same category.

Evil.

"Laurie?" One of the men followed her from the room, rushing to catch up with her in the hallway. She paused, waiting for him, and he gave her an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry."

Laurie gave a little shrug. "It's not your fault, Brody," she answered tiredly. "I just get so fed up with them. I mean, Khivar is launching an attack even as we speak, and all they do is sit about and argue with each other."

Brody placed a hand on her arm. "They're scared, Laurie," he said simply. "They're terrified, because they're stuck in a war they can't fight. Without powers, they feel useless. They _are_ useless."

Laurie sighed. "I know they're scared," she agreed reluctantly. "But we're all scared. And yet not all of us blame all aliens for everything horrible in the world."

Brody glanced around the hallway, making sure they were alone, before he replied, "And not all of _us_ aliens are responsible for all the evils in _your_ world."

It took Laurie a moment to catch the hidden meaning in those words, and then she gaped at him, startled. "Are you… Larek? How long?"

The alien shrugged. "I took the body about thirty minutes ago. But it isn't as though I could tell anyone that."

Laurie bit back a smile. She didn't even want to think what people like Thomas would have said had they known a _freak_ was eavesdropping on their conversation. For that reason, and a variety of other reasons having to do with the security of the place, Larek's ability to take over Brody had been kept secret from everyone except a few select members of the Resistance.

"Have you succeeded in evacuating many?" Larek questioned.

Laurie's expression fell, and she gave another sigh, this one long and drawn out. "No, but not for lack of trying. The minute we heard that they were coming, we tried to get people out. But Khivar closed down most of the borders out, and he controls too much of the sky to take a chance with that… We've gotten out some, but the others…"

Larek fell into step beside her as they continued to walk through the twisting corridor. "The safe-house is well protected. It will take a lot for him to breach the securities."

"I know," Laurie agreed, "but he can do it. And that is what scares me."

"Really?" Larek drawled. "Because it is his complete lack of morals and sanity that tend to scare me."

Laurie gave a dry laugh. "That, too." Again, her expression faded into one of concern, and she asked, "Do you think Michael will come? I mean… he _must_ know it is a trap."

"Yes. But he is your brother, he will still come. You know that."

Laurie bit her lip, tears pooling in her eyes. She blinked them away quickly, not wanting the alien to see her momentary weakness. It was suicide for Michael to come, and yet, Larek was right. He _would_ come. She knew that.

"There have been rumors," Larek murmured, bringing the conversation around to the pertinent point. It was clear by the way his eyes narrowed slightly and his voice rose just a tiny bit in pitch that this was what he had wanted to talk about all along.

"Rumors of what?" Laurie asked apprehensively. The last thing she needed right now was to here that there were more problems, more issues that she would be forced to deal with.

"Some people think Khivar is up to more than just flushing out Michael. They think he has a different target in mind."

"Who?"

Larek shrugged. "No idea. The rumors are vague, just enough to be concerning and not enough to be helpful. I tried finding out more, but all the information practically evaporated the moment I looked for more." He paused, picking his words carefully before continuing, "You know, the Granolith was activated."

Laurie shivered. "I heard. What is going on?"

"I don't know," Larek repeated. "Whatever it is, it is being well guarded at the moment. But something _is_ happening."

Laurie accepted this in silence, wondering. If it had been Khivar who had somehow accessed the Granolith, she was positive Michael would have conveyed the to her by now. So the only possible explanation was that the alien source of energy had been used by a member of the Resistance, probably one of the royals or their children. And at the same time that happened, Khivar was planning for something big.

She didn't like it at all.

"What are you up to, Michael?" she murmured.

* * *

As Laurie predicted, Khivar's forces were able to breach the protections about the safe-house. However, the fight was far from over. This particular safe-house, instead of being just one large building, was actually a series of underground bunkers connected through a labyrinth of corridors and passageways. Finding anyone in it, particularly if they were determined to stay hidden, was not easy.

The children, the injured and disabled, and the elderly slipped further back into the bunkers, moving towards safety exits and secret passageways, away from the fighting. But Khivar had the entire safe-house surrounded, and unless they could find a way past his forces, this could easily turn into a giant massacre.

Slowly, the invading skins pushed further onward, slaughtering anyone in their way. The Resistance fighters did their best to stop the onslaught, but guns, effective though they were, were still no match for alien powers.

And then things got worse.

Out of the wreckage of the battle, appearing through the smoky air, stepping over strewn debris, broken glass and stone, came Isabel.

Her mere presence was enough to inspire incredible terror in those who knew who she was. It was almost as though Khivar himself had come forward to join the fight. Her eyes glittered with inhuman savagery and her lips twisted into a cruel smirk. There was no remnant of the real Isabel left, no essence of the vibrant, carrying, emotional woman who had once inhabited that body, save for the tiniest flicker of something in her eyes, a reminder that she had once been different.

But even as Isabel joined the fight, the rest of Khivar's forces seemed to fail slightly, leaving cracks in their ranks, allowing a few of the rebels to escape the slaughter and flee through the desert. And with the fleeing children, elderly, and disabled, traveled the news that Khivar's powerful wife had joined the fight.

That news spread quickly, and it was not long before it reached Michael's ears.

* * *

It took a little while to locate Ava in the maze of hallways that wound their way through the safe-house. Alex and Maria had opted to tell the others in the safe-house that Max and Liz were, in fact, not imposters, and Michael was caught up talking to Serena about the attack on the safe-house. Kyle had gone to visit his father, something that apparently was a daily ritual of his, and that left Max and Liz alone to track down their daughter.

Very soon they were going to be forced to have a serious conversation about the ramifications of their trip, but at the moment, neither wanted anything more than to spend some time with their daughter.

They found her in what looked like some kind of small family room or den, talking quietly with Zan, Vilandra, and Skylar. All four looked up when Max and Liz entered, and the two stopped a little awkwardly and hovered in the doorway.

"Come in," Ava said eagerly, smiling. Zan, who was sitting next to her on the sofa, shifted his weight slightly and grimaced, eyeing them with reservations. Vilandra, perched on the edge of the wicker rocking chair, matched Ava's smile. But Skylar, sitting by the small card table, looked downright hostile.

"Uh… thanks," Liz answered with a little frown. She did not want to feel so uncomfortable, but it was difficult to wrap her head around the fact that she had become a mother overnight. A mother of a teenager.

"We were just talking," Vilandra said, "about the attack in Santa Fe."

Liz slanted a look at the girl. She had vaguely wished that she would find her daughter and her daughter's friends sitting around and talking about the latest television show or some book that they had just read, instead of serious conversations about battle strategies and the horrors of war. But it appeared that this war was so prevalent in their lives, they didn't even realize it wasn't normal.

"Yeah… Uncle Michael is worried about Laurie," Ava agreed.

"Who is Laurie?" Liz asked, slipping into a seat across from her daughter. Max stood behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders.

"You don't know?" Zan demanded. "How could you not know who Laurie is?"

Ava frowned at Zan. "I told you," she hissed in a low voice, "they don't know everything. They're from the past, they just haven't learned it all yet."

Zan shrugged, looking unapologetic, and said, "Whatever. I just think it is weird that they don't know about Laurie."

Vilandra and Ava both sent almost identical glares at Zan, and Vilandra hurried to explain, "Laurie's grandfather was the human who's DNA they used to make Uncle Michael. So Laurie is like Uncle Michael's sister, practically."

"When do we meet her?" Liz asked eagerly.

Ava frowned, as though trying to remember the details. "Um… soon, I think. You… you're uh… you were in your Junior year of high school, right?" Liz nodded silently, and Ava continued, "So, yeah, I think it was that year."

"They're only juniors?" Skylar asked sharply, eyes widening. He let his eyes run up and down Liz and Max's bodies, obviously thinking that they did not look anything like teenagers. With a sneer, he continued, "Vilandra and I are older than that."

"Skylar…" Ava started, but Skylar cut her off, rising to his feet and hissing at them angrily.

"Why are we pinning our hopes on people who are younger than us, who don't know anywhere near as much as we do? They're practically useless!"

"Skylar, back off!" Ava snapped, narrowing her eyes.

"It's alright, Ava," Liz said, trying to be diplomatic. "I can't imagine what this future has been like for the four of you, but I know it can't have been easy. It's alright that Skylar is skeptical of us." She turned her gaze to the angry teenager, hoping to reassure him with a gentle smile. "But we are going to find a way to fix it. I promise."

If anything, that only served to make Skylar angrier. He took a few steps forward, face flushing darkly, and said, "Your promises don't really mean much to me."

Liz licked her lips, unsure as to how to proceed. She doubted she would make any headway with Skylar, but maybe she could at least get Ava, Vilandra, and possible Zan to talk to her. Turning back to her daughter, she asked, "Tell me more about Laurie?"

Ava, who had been looking stricken at Skylar, jolted her attention back to her mother and gave a vague frown. "She works at the safe-house in Santa Fe. She's in charge of organizing rescues for people in the surrounding areas. We don't see her that much anymore, since her job is always so intense, but I think Uncle Michael talks to her at least once a week."

Liz exchanged a glance with Max. The hybrid king looked thrilled by this news, and Liz could not help but reflect his pleasure. They were both happy that Michael had finally found his family. It had always seemed so unfair that Max and Isabel had each other and their parents, and eventually even Tess had Jim. But Michael had been left alone with no one but Hank for so long, and then after Hank was gone…

"What is she like?" Max asked.

"Not as crazy as she used to be," Vilandra quipped, shaking her head with a slight grin.

At Max and Liz's confused looks, Ava explained, "They way you guys end up meeting Laurie… well, let's just say everyone seemed to think she was insane and paranoid for a while. You guys proved that she wasn't, though."

"Are you sure we should be telling them this?" Zan asked pointedly. "What if we change the future? What if what we tell them means that they end up not finding Laurie, not saving her?"

"I think it is a little late to worry about the consequences of revealing the future to them," Vilandra pointed out logically. "Ava already brought them here, they've seen more than they should."

"Yeah, but that is no reason to take more risks. I don't think we should tell them anything they don't need to know to stop Khivar," Zan protested.

"Well, I would agree with Zan," Skylar said, folding his arms over his chest, "but given that the Granolith is now gone, we don't actually have a way of returning them to the past. So, basically, we're screwed. Anyone think of _that_?"

Ava blushed at his accusatory tone, but defended herself, "The Granolith can't be the only source of energy powerful enough to send people back in time. After we defeat Khivar, we will find another one. We will get them back."

"Fine,' Skylar snapped, "but in the meantime, let's not tell them every detail."

"Don't you think you're overreacting?" Ava asked.

"Well, forgive me if I don't want to risk all of our futures just because you want to have some quality bonding time with your parents," Skylar retorted fiercely. Ava's face crumpled a little, and he instantly softened, saying in a more level tone, "You were right to bring them here, we need help in this fight. But I just think we should be… cautious… about things like this. I don't want us to… ruin anything."

Liz, again trying to be diplomatic, said, "Well, why don't you tell us about something that isn't important. Um… like… I don't know… what's your favorite color?" As she spoke, she took a seat across from Ava, and Max did the same, sitting down beside her and taking her hand in his.

"Favorite color?" Ava echoed.

Liz shrugged a little and caught the amused glance Max tossed in her direction. She knew it was an odd, trivial question, but she still wanted the answer. Didn't most mothers know what colors their daughters liked? And since she doubted knowing that could in anyway negatively harm the future, it had seemed safe enough.

"I like blue," Vilandra offered. "And red."

"I like blue, also," Ava agreed with a nod. "And green." She turned an expectant look at Zan, who just stared back, eyebrows raised as though to demand why anyone thought he would actually answer the question. She huffed slightly, and said, "Zan likes brown and orange."

"And what about you, Skylar?" Max asked, trying to keep his voice civil and polite.

Skylar rolled his eyes. "Who cares? They're just colors."

"Yeah? You wouldn't be saying that if someone tried to make you wear pink," Vilandra countered with a smirk.

Again, Skylar rolled his eyes, but when he looked at Vilandra his expression was no longer annoyed, but held just the tiniest bit of amusement. Her smirk faded into a soft smile, and the two held each other's gazes for just the fraction of a moment.

Liz smiled brightly, sensing the chemistry between the two. There was obviously a relationship there. With that thought in mind, she turned towards Ava, her eyes moving back and forth between her daughter and Zan. It had been obvious from the very beginning that those two cared a great deal for each other, but she wondered vaguely just how deep those feelings went.

"Uh… what about your favorite sport?" Max asked.

"Soccer," Zan answered immediately.

"Ballet," Vilandra replied.

"Ballet isn't a sport," Zan countered, raising his eyebrows at her.

"Yes, it is," Vilandra said determinedly. "You just have a very narrow definition of the term sports."

"Yes," Zan drawled. "I use it to refer to those things that actually are sports. Which does not include ballet, or ice-skating, or all those other girly things you used to do."

"Just because you were never culturally competent enough to appreciate the finer points of ballet doesn't mean it isn't a sport," Vilandra said, her eyes sparkling with laughter.

"I don't know, Vilandra," Max interjected, "I agree with Zan on this one."

"Ha! Two-to-one," Zan chortled happily. "I win!"

Liz watched as Zan's hard exterior seemed to melt slightly. He shot a grateful look at Max, clearly happy that he had won the argument, and in that moment she found she could see quite a bit of Maria in him. Beneath his obvious suspicion and hesitation to trust, which were attributes so similar to Michael, she somehow still sensed Maria's fiery passion and love of life.

"Favorite animal?" Liz asked, eager to keep the conversation going.

"Giraffe," Ava announced.

"Now, that's just plain weird," Skylar muttered under his breath.

She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Platypus," Vilandra offered. She turned a challenging gaze to Skylar, as though just daring him to make a comment on her favorite animal. He bit back a laugh and held his hands up in a silent gesture of goodwill and surrender.

"First word?" Max asked.

Ava looked a little embarrassed as she said shyly, "Mama," and Liz practically glowed with pleasure.

"Bowl," Vilandra answered.

"Want," Zan said with a little laugh. Vilandra and Ava both burst out laughing at that.

"And his first full sentence was 'I want that,'" Ava added with a mischievous grin.

"Hey," Zan protested, "I knew what I wanted and I went after it. Nothing wrong with that. It just shows that I was very focused."

"Or a spoiled brat," Ava suggested with a broad smile.

"What about you, Skylar?" Liz asked, trying to draw him into the conversation. "What was your first full sentence?"

The room was suddenly silent, the air heavy with tension. At first, Liz had no idea what she'd done wrong, and she turned questioning eyes to Ava. But her daughter wouldn't meet her gaze, and instead stared at the ground, looking uncomfortable. Zan had both hands pressed together until his knuckles practically turned white, and Vilandra was watching Skylar with an unreadable expression on her face.

Skylar stared hard at Liz and said simply, "My first full sentence was 'where is Mama?'" Then he walked around her and out of the room, letting the door shut firmly behind him.

After that, nothing Liz or Max said could get the conversation starting again, and the room was filled with little more than awkward silence. It was interrupted, however, when the door swung open once more, and Liz turned, half-expecting to find Skylar entering again.

But it was Michael.

"We need to talk," he said, his tone filled with something Liz could not quite identify. "Now."

Ava started to rise to her feet, but Michael cut her off.

"We'll handle it, Ava. You don't need to come."

"Uncle Michael," Ava started to protest, but the thunderous look in Michael's eyes was enough to get her to back off. She lapsed into silence, curiosity etched into the lines of her face as she watched her parents leave the room with the hybrid General.

In the hallway, Max turned to Michael and asked worriedly, "What's wrong?"

"I just got word from Santa Fe," Michael muttered under his breath. "Isabel has joined the attack."

"What?"

Michael ran a hand through his hair and took a shaky breath, looking uneasy. "It's weird, Max. Isabel doesn't usually join fights unless it is some huge battle. And even then… it's just… out of character for her."

"This could be it," Max murmured excitedly, grabbing Michael's arm. "This could be our chance to save her."

"Or, more likely, it is a trap," Michael answered harshly. "She's still your sister, she shares your blood. It is possible that she sensed your presence… Max, she could be trying to lure you to her."

Max frowned and countered, "But you don't know that for certain."

With a frustrated sigh, Michael answered, "I don't know anything for certain. Not when it comes to Isabel. Not anymore." He looked past Max, and Liz followed his gaze to see Maria walking towards them.

"He told you?" Maria asked without preamble.

Liz nodded.

Maria turned to Michael. "I spoke to Serena. She's positive it is a trap. A lure for Max. I guess it could be, but that doesn't even make sense. I mean… do you really think Isabel is strong enough to sense someone else's presence from so far away?"

Michael considered this for a moment, then answered heavily, "Hard to know. But I do know we shouldn't underestimate her. Or Khivar."

Maria chewed her bottom lip as she hesitantly nodded in agreement, and a dismal silence fell over the four of them.

* * *

Max knew it was a foolish idea. As he neared the exit of the Resistance Base, he silently replayed all of Michael's arguments in his mind, all of the reasons he should believe this was nothing more than a clever trap created by his sister and Khivar. And it made sense, in a horrifying sort of logical way.

And yet… this was Isabel. His sister. And she was out in the open, away from Khivar. It might be a trap, but if it was a chance to save her, how could he turn his back on it?

He had only been in the future for a matter of hours, barely over a single day. He didn't have an understanding of the full scope of this war, of the implications and consequences of all that had happened. He didn't know the details of what had allowed the world to sink so far into pain and despair, and he knew almost nothing about Khivar himself, or about what the skin king was capable of doing.

Leaving the safety of this base was reckless and stupid.

He pushed open the door and stepped into a large hanger-like room. His eyes ran over all the various cars. He doubted he would have any idea how to use them, but his alien powers would probably allow him to rev up the engine, and that would be enough.

He just had to get to Santa Fe.

He had slipped away under the pretense of needing a moment alone to process his thoughts. Michael and Maria were still talking to Liz, and he had no doubt that Kyle and Alex would join them shortly. Possibly even accompanied by some others from the Resistance, such as Kal or Serena. Soon enough, they would notice his absence.

Liz, at least, would guess where he had gone when they discovered that he was no longer at the base.

Would they follow? He hoped not. He couldn't risk their lives, not with so much at stake. Isabel was his sister, and Khivar was his enemy, and this was his fight. He knew they would stand by his side, support him in this battle. They were his allies, his friends… his family. But he also knew, deep down, that this war was his responsibility, and yet all of them, even Isabel, were paying the price for it. But not now, not anymore. There were some fights he would have to fight alone.

He walked towards one of the cars.

It was foolish and reckless and stupid. But it was Isabel. His sister. And he might not ever get a second chance.

He was going to Santa Fe.


	8. Before My Very Eyes

Title: When Times Collide

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Summary: When Max and Liz's daughter arrives in the past, two times collide in a desperate race to save the future.

* * *

Chapter Eight: Before My Very Eyes

By the time Max's absence was noted, it was far too late to do anything to stop him. And the mere fact that he could actually be foolish enough to risk his life in a battle he could not hope to win was enough to send both Ava and Michael into a panic. Unfortunately, neither could quite agree on how to best handle the situation.

"He's my father, Uncle Michael!" Ava hissed, her eyes filled with fear and determination. "I have to go after him!"

"I can go after him on my own," Michael replied, his tone equally firm. "There is no reason to drag you into more danger."

"I am not going to sit back and do nothing while my father goes off to fight Khivar!"

Michael ran a hand through his hair and took a shaky breath, turning away from the younger girl. His eyes were clouded with regret and confliction, his expression sober and drained.

Liz watched the exchange with interest, noting the way Zan moved to Ava's side, subtly backing her up, while Maria and Alex flanked Michael, creating a look of unity. She saw also how Michael skillfully evaded the topic of exactly what had prompted Max's sudden departure, making it seem as though Max had left to fight Khivar and not because of Isabel.

She glanced at Vilandra, who stood the side, watching silently. How would the young woman react, Liz wondered, if she knew the truth about her mother. Out of the four children, Vilandra seemed the most poised, the most introspective. Ava had fire and passion, Zan had sarcasm and suspicion, and Skylar had anger and distrust. Vilandra alone seemed to be less ruled by her emotions. Still… if she knew the truth about Isabel, if she knew what her mother had become…

"This is not a discussion, Ava," Maria's sharp voice cut into Liz's thoughts. "You are not coming with us."

"Us?" Kyle asked, speaking up for the first time since the argument had started. He was leaning against the far wall, his expression a curious mixture of worry and annoyance. "You can't come with us, Maria."

"What? Why not?"

"The same reason you can never come with us," Kyle drawled, rolling his eyes at her. "Your main power is sensing other people's emotions. And while that can be useful for subterfuge and strategy, it is not going to be a whole lot of help in an all out fight against Khivar;s army."

"For once, Valenti and I agree on something," Michael commented dryly.

"Michael, you are a target!" Maria protested, shaking her head in stubborn refusal. "There is a reason they chose _this_ safe-house. Khivar might want Max, but that won't stop him from going after you as well. This is a trap, and you can't just…"

"I don't have a choice," Michael said firmly, interrupting Maria's argument. "Max and Laurie are both in serious danger, and I am not going to stand by and let them die."

"Guerin is right," Kyle said, his eyes moving to Ava. "There is no reason for any of you to come. Maria, Liz, and Alex can stay behind with you. Guerin and I will take some of our allies from this safe-house and lead this rescue mission ourselves."

"Why does Uncle Alex have to stay?" Ava asked curiously. "And Mom? They both have powers that could help."

Michael and Kyle exchanged a glance, and then Kyle hedged a bit as he answered, "Your mother doesn't have full capability over her powers. She only discovered she even had them twenty-four hours ago. Unfortunately, that makes Liz a liability for us." He gave Liz an apologetic look, and although Liz felt a swelling of anger at his dismissal of her abilities, she had to admit she could understand his point of view. She probably would not be much help in a fight, and Max's life hung in the balance.

Ava continued to complain, arguing with Maria. Michael slipped from the room, presumably to find others to help with the mission. Zan, Skylar, and Vilandra clustered around Ava and Maria, but Alex crossed the room to join Kyle and Liz.

"I can help," Alex said quietly. "My main power is freezing things, and being able to stop a bullet or an energy blast midair is a useful gift. Particularly in a war."

"And you know very well why you can't go," Kyle retorted heatedly, his words low in volume.

"If this is an issue of trust…" Alex started, but Kyle cut him off.

"Of course it is an issue of trust," Kyle snapped. "Isabel is there. If you see her…"

"The last thing I would do would be to rush to her side and betray you all," Alex insisted, looking hurt that Kyle would even suggest something like that.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me honestly that if you see Isabel, you _won't_ hesitate."

But Alex couldn't. He lowered his gaze and gave a long hopelessly bewildered sigh. Liz could not help but feel a rush of sympathy for him, for all that he had been forced to endure. It was obviously tearing him apart, destroying him that he was not able to save his beloved wife. She was the enemy, and though he could not save her, he could not bring himself to attack her either.

"If it was Tess," Kyle whispered, "I'd be the one staying behind."

"I know," Alex muttered. "I know you are only looking out for me. I'm sorry… I shouldn't have gotten mad at you."

Kyle shrugged. "Eh. Happens. Don't worry about it." There was a pause, then he added, "Anyway, you were never a fighter. Michael and I…we're used to this. It's practically in our blood. But you're the level-headed one. You and Max… you are the ones who plan the strategies and ask the questions, and search for the answers. You were never rash…" He winced, and revised his early statement, "Well… I guess this Max can be a little…"

"Yeah." Alex licked his dry lips and hesitated, then said, "I just… I just want to see her, you know? I still love her. So much. It is so… frustrating."

"Yeah," Kyle murmured. "Yeah, I know."

Liz shook her head in wonder at the interaction. She never would have suspected that Kyle and Alex would become so close. But the entire group had knit itself together, finding the ties that bound them, the similarities and commonalities that made them all practically family.

And she understood, then, just how much it must have torn them apart every time they lost someone.

With that thought in mind, she turned to Alex and asked, "Can you help me with my powers? If I am to be any use at all, I need to know what I can do."

"Sure. Maria and I can probably give you a hand with that," Alex said, forcing a smile and attempting to sound light-hearted. The smile did not reach his eyes, but Liz took his hand and squeezed it, trying to reassure him, even though she knew she'd probably never be able to erase that haunted look from his eyes.

Only Isabel could do that, and Isabel was gone.

* * *

He would never have believed it, had he not seen the truth before his very eyes.

Perhaps that was part of the reason he had insisted on coming, part of the reason he had abandoned the others, along with his own common sense, and rushed headlong into a battle he knew nothing about and could not possibly hope to win. Even though they had all told him that she was gone, he still could not fully hope to understand until…

Until he saw it. Saw _her_.

The sight of Santa Fe was horrifying. He had no idea exactly where the safe-house was located, but it didn't really matter. He could see the destruction all around him, the charred trees and overturned cars that sprawled across the street, dotted by debris and garbage. The entire city seemed to have born the brunt of Khivar's wrath, and a cacophony of shouts and wails and distant explosions mixed with the rhythmic thud of footsteps pounding on the cement floated through the air, mingling with the smoke and smog. Shadows moved through the streets, people in cars and on motorcycles, people running by on foot…

He did not enter the city. On the outskirts, where the dirt roads became paved and the desert faded into the scenic background, he stood and gaped, horrified. He went unnoticed by most, just a distant figure watching from the outside, too far away to be important.

But _she_ felt his presence.

And so when he did not come to find her, she came to find him.

Which was how the two ended up facing each other, on the outskirts of the town, alone.

He would not have believe it… but he had seen it with his own eyes.

"Hello, Isabel," he choked, the name sounding foreign and strange, not something he should associate with the cold and haughty figure before him.

"Hello, Zan," she replied. "Long time no see." She titled her head to the side, a small frown appearing between her eyes. "How are you here?" she asked, mildly curious. "Even a healer cannot raise the dead."

"I'm not back from the dead," he answered.

She was as stunning as he remembered. Time had not ruined her figure or marred her nearly flawless skin. But her beauty, which had once been infused with a sort of warmth, was icy cold now.

"What happened to you?" he whispered.

Isabel shrugged. "I grew up, Zan. Something you should consider doing as well."

"Since when did growing up become equivalent to switching sides?" Max demanded hotly.

Isabel laughed mockingly and answered, "Still stuck in the past, aren't you? This isn't about sides, Zan. It is about love and survival. Khivar offered me both of those, so I certainly was not going to turn him down." She turned away from him then, her gaze travelling out over the ruined city. "So much needless death. If only you would surrender, and all this could be avoided."

"Khivar began the fight," Max answered, gritting his teeth. "He took what was not his."

Isabel shrugged carelessly. "He took what you could not defend. It is not his fault you were too weak to keep control of your planet."

Max took two angry steps towards her. "And Alex? Your daughter? What would happen to them if we surrendered? I doubt Khivar would let them live."

She looked back at him, a confused frown in her eyes. "Alex?" There was a silence, a pause that stretched out, filling the air around them, until at last she said, "Oh, do you mean Ansem? What about him? He means nothing to me."

Max narrowed his eyes. She had continually called him Zan, and at first he thought it was just her way of reminding him that the past had never left, that he was more than just Max Evans. But her confusion about Alex…? That indicated something else, something he did not want to believe.

"And your daughter?" he pressed, praying that some recognition would light her eyes, that the mention of her daughter would bring back her memory.

It didn't.

"What daughter?" she demanded, eyes smoldering with emotion. "Why are you trying to trick me with such pathetic lies? I have no daughter."

"Yes, Isabel! Yes, you do."

She pressed her lips together, eyes filled with malice and ice. "You lie. And why you insist on calling me Isabel? What names is that? Or have you somehow forgotten me so quickly another name besides Vilandra?"

Max reeled back from her, "Oh, God, Izzy, what did Khivar do to you?" he whispered, horrorstruck.

"He gave me a chance to meet my full potential. He gave me everything I ever wanted," Isabel answered fiercely.

Max reached out with his arms, gesturing to the world around him. "_This_ is what you wanted? This death, this destruction?"

"Like I said before, Zan, this destruction is your fault. You cling pointlessly to a throne you cannot hope to reclaim. _You_ have caused this war, not us."

Max shook his head, hurt. "How can you be so cold?"

Isabel laughed, although her tone was tinged with anger. "I've already told you, Zan. I grew up."

"You're my sister! How can you act as though that means nothing at all?"

She walked away from him again, her footsteps lifting small clouds of dust from the dirt road. "I'm Khivar's _wife_. That is what matters. We all have to survive somehow."

"And to hell with everyone else?" Max crossed to her side and grabbed her arm, twisting her around and staring hard into the eyes of a woman he thought he had known. "What about everything we ever believed in? What about knowing the difference from right and wrong?"

"This is a war, Zan," she snarled, wrenching her arm from his grip with a fierce gesture. "There is no right and wrong. There is only power, and those strong enough to seek it. There is only survival, and those too weak to obtain it."

"The Isabel I grew up with would never have believed that."

She stared at him, her face a mixture of emotions, of anger and confusion and mocking derision. "My name is Vilandra. Stop calling me something else!"

"You _are_ someone else," Max cried desperately, wishing he could somehow force her to see the truth. "Don't you remember that? Diane and Philip Evans? Michael? Alex, Liz, Maria? Any of it?" But Khivar's hold over her was too strong, and even as he begged her to listen, he knew he could not break the spell that kept her trapped in a different identity.

Isabel eyed him for a moment, her gaze boring into his features. After a pause, she seemed to come to some sort of decision, and gave a slow nod. "Very well. Believe what you will. It makes no difference to me anyway."

And without warning, she reached out and sent a burst of energy exploding from her fingertips and crackling through the short expanse of air between them. It slammed into his chest before he could even react, and he was thrown from his feet, flung like a ragdoll through the air before falling into a sprawl on the ground.

Winded, he looked up at her through tawny eyes. "This isn't you!" he cried, his voice hoarse.

She took a few steps towards him, lips twisting into a sneer. "This is me. This is everything I was meant to become. You cannot stop me, brother."

"So this is it? You're going to kill me?" Max demanded, pulling himself unsteadily back to his feet.

"Any reason why I shouldn't?"

He bit back the furious retort and forced himself to answer calmly, rationally, "Because I am your family."

She shook her head, looking a little disappointed by his answer. "We've had this conversation before, Zan. Your pathetic attempts at empathy did not change my mind then, and they certainly will not do it now. Why do you waste my time?"

"Isabel…"

"_Stop calling me that_!" Isabel cut him off with a furious wave of her hand, but this time he was prepared and conjured a force-field before the electricity could make contact with his skin. The shield rippled with the effort of holding back her attack, but it still held.

He made no move to attack her in return.

She nearly laughed, but instead settled for a widening smile. "Still too weak to attempt killing me? You, Ansem, Rath… you're all the same. Too weak. It is no wonder Khivar was able to defeat you."

"I am not weak," Max retorted, flushing at her accusation. "But I will not kill you. I can find a way to save you, I know I can. And there is nothing at all about emotions that make us weak. It makes us stronger, far stronger than Khivar could possibly comprehend. Once upon a time, you understood that."

"Strong?" she echoed mockingly. "It did not make you strong enough to save your precious Ava, did it? Your wife lies dead, and you were supposed to be with her." She paused, a wrinkle marring the skin of her forehead. "I still do not know why you are here. How have you come back from the dead, and why have you left your wife behind?"

"Don't you dare talk about Liz!" The rage flooded through his veins, clouding his vision, darkening his eyes.

"Who is Liz?" Isabel asked, now completely thrown. "Are you in love with someone other than your Ava?"

"_Stop it!"_ Max spat. "Stop talking! Liz is Ava! Don't you remember? Isabel, please, listen to me…" He wanted, so desperately, to believe that Isabel was there somewhere, underneath the mask. But she acted so much like the enemy, like Khivar, that when he looked at her all he could see was her betrayal.

He was starting to understand. It had taken a while, had taken actually speaking to her, hearing her cold words and watching her mocking expression fill with gloating triumph. But now he got what the others had been trying to tell him all along.

This was not Isabel. Isabel was gone, had been gone for years.

He let his eyes pass over her shoulder towards the distant shadows. They were coming closer, taking shape as they moved through the smog. The army of skins was approaching, their numbers severely diminished by the fight, but the hatred and bloodlust in their eyes no dimmed at all.

"My husband will be happy to see you again," Isabel murmured. "If you come quietly, and without too much of a fuss, I can convince him to make your death painless."

Max looked at her and shook his head. "Khivar is my enemy. Our enemy. And I will always fight him."

"And you will always lose," Isabel countered. She flicked one hand towards him, and a shock wave flooded the air, sending echoes of energy rushing towards him. He countered the attack easily enough with his shield, but Isabel continued to force her powers towards him, and he stumbled backwards along the path.

She was stronger than he remembered, stronger than she had ever been before.

He licked his dry lips and tried to press back against her attack, tried to stop her. But even though he could look at her and know she was no longer his sister, he had not managed to convince his heart of that simple truth. And so he could not attack her, could not attempt to cause her harm.

The skins were getting closer.

And then…

"Hello, Isabel."

The statuesque hybrid paused, her hand falling to her side, surprised by the voice that floated towards her through the stifling air. She turned, one eyebrow raised.

"Hello, Rath."

There were others behind him, Kyle and several that Max did not recognize but who were presumably members of the Resistance. They had arrived in cars and on motorcycles, somehow stealthy approaching until now they were only a few dozen feet away.

Michael stepped forward. "That is not my name."

Isabel gave him a curious look. "Are you and my dear brother both stuck in the same strange dream? Have you given yourselves different names?"

Michael took a few cautious steps to the left, circling Isabel as they traded words. Kyle and the other members of the Resistance turned, spreading out to meet the arriving groups of skins. The air was quiet and still, filled with tension. It was as though even nature knew a battle was about to start.

And then chaos broke loose.

Max had barely time to blink before the fighting began. All around him, people were engaged in combat. The snap of gunshots exploded somewhere to his left, and he watched as a skin fell, his husk littered with holes. But even as the enemies were pushed slowly backwards, more arrived to take the places of their fallen comrades. The earth trembled, a member of the Resistance fell with a half-choked cry of pain, another died so quickly, so quietly that Max might have thought he was simply sleeping on the dry ground.

He jerked his gaze back to Isabel.

She was fighting Michael.

The two exchanged blows, locked in hand-to-hand combat. Occasionally, Isabel's fingertips would glow red with electricity and Kyle would stumble backwards as though jolted. But he responded well, rejoining the fight almost instantly.

Then Kyle stepped forward, and Max watched as he pressed his hands out, palms facing the ground. The earth around Isabel began to explode, forcing the hybrid Princess to stumble and fall. She was rapidly loosing her footing, the combination of Michael's physical attack and Kyle's creative use of his powers was enough to nearly knock her to the ground.

Then she sneered, "Want to see a new trick I learned?"

She shoved Michael away and turned towards Kyle, reaching out with one hand. Her fingertips grazed his forehead. The movement was brief, the contact lasting for little more than a second, but Kyle instantly fell to his knees, clutching his head, eyes tightly shut.

She kicked him in the chest, sending him sprawling. "Did you really think your ability to blow up things could stand against me? Molecular combustion is a neat parlor trick, but it doesn't do much in a battle."

Kyle looked at her through blurry eyes and flung out both his hands. The ground exploded upwards, and Isabel was flung through the air. She hit the dirt and rolled over, momentarily stunned.

Kyle dragged himself to his feet and snarled, "It does enough."

"Let's go! Move!" Michael was suddenly yelling, appearing at Max's side and dragging him away from the fighting. The others rushed to his side, away from Isabel, away from the skins, and before Max could fully comprehend what was happening, he had been shoved unceremoniously into a car and they were speeding off away from Santa Fe.

* * *

"You need to focus more," Maria instructed as Liz extended both hands in front of her and tried to conjure energy the way she had seen Max and Michael do it before.

The brunette huffed impatiently. "I am focusing!"

"Not enough," Maria chided with a smile. "Look, I know it is hard, but just try to… breathe. Deep breaths."

"Breathe?" Liz asked incredulously. "I'm trying to harness alien powers I didn't even know I had, and all you can tell me to do is breathe?" She shook her head, a smile pulling at her lips. This Maria was certainly more mature and even a bit more subdued than her teenager self, but underneath the weight of responsibility Liz could still see vestiges of her friend's… alternative… ways.

She half-expected to be handed some Echinacea or cedar oil and told to meditate.

Alex, watching critically from the doorway, suggested, "You could try relaxing also. That would help."

"Relaxing… great." Liz looked down at her hands once more and tried to imagine them filled with electricity. Latching on to the emotions inside of her – the anger, the confusion, the hurt, the fear – she focused all her attention on her fingertips. They began to glow.

"Good," Maria whispered. "Keep that up. Keep focusing on what you are feeling…"

Startled, and a little bewildered, Liz looked up and asked, "How did you know what I was thinking?" As she said that, her concentration broke and her hands fell to her sides, the energy lost.

Alex gave a little sigh.

Maria frowned, but answered, "It's my main power. I can sense other people's emotions. I'm an empath."

"That's cool."

Maria shrugged. "I guess. It isn't so much help in a fight. But it does come in handy for any of our… subterfuge. Isabel won't fight me because of it."

"Really?"

"Yeah. She's had the opportunity to, on more than one occasion. We've crossed paths a few times. But she won't… when she sees or senses that I am there, she never stays. Michael thinks she is afraid of me knowing what she is feeling. We're not really sure why, but I guess it is good to know she has a weakness."

"What happened when you first realized you could do that?" Liz asked curiously. "Sense other people's emotions, I mean."

Alex laughed at the question and Maria gave a sheepish grin. "It freaked me out," the blonde answered truthfully. "We didn't know what it was, and all of a sudden I was filled with all these confusing emotions that weren't even mind." With a sardonic roll of her eyes, she added, "It did not help that I was dating Michael. Honestly, that's a whole bunch of emotion I never want to feel. Ever."

"Well, to be fair," Alex pointed out thoughtfully, "Michael did take a lot of the brunt of your powers."

"How?" Liz pressed.

"I broke up with him several times," Maria answered, now nearly shaking with mirth as she recalled that troublesome time. "I kept channeling other people's emotions, and any time someone around me got mad at their boyfriend, I'd end up livid with Michael. I couldn't figure out why I was so upset, I just _was_. So I would break up with him."

"Hm… bet he didn't take that too well."

Maria chuckled. "No, not well at all. But I was in high school, and people were breaking up all around me, so I couldn't get away from it."

"The thing about sensing other people's emotions," Alex added softly, "is that you don't have the same filter they do. People have a lot of hidden desires they never act on. But Maria has the ability to sense the desires… but she doesn't have their experiences or their thoughts, and so she can't act with the same restraint… it took her a very long time to be able to control it."

"Once," Maria said with a mischievous glint in her eyes, "Michael and Max got into an argument. It was something having to do with aliens. Michael wanted to investigate, Max wanted to stay back and act normal… the typical argument."

Liz nodded, but Alex burst into laughter as though he knew the ending of the story, and the overwhelmed brunette could not help but smile in anticipation of what was to come.

"Michael was really mad." Maria smirked as her gaze became unfocused, her mind travelling back in time to recall these particular events. "He started yelling at Max, saying that he was the king and he needed to start leading, that we couldn't just sit around and wait for our enemies to come to us."

"They were both right," Alex murmured. "We needed Max to lead, but we also needed to be cautious. We didn't know enough at that point. We didn't even know who we were."

Maria gave a nod of assent, agreeing with Alex's analysis. There was something in her eyes, a sort of vague gloominess, and Liz could only imagine just how terrifying it had been for all of them when the war started in earnest. The group had a hard enough time now, in the past she had come from, when all they were doing was fighting the occasional few skins and trying to stay one step ahead of the FBI.

"Anyway," Maria continued, "Michael is yelling at Max, and of course the rest of us are standing there watching silently because by now we've learned not to get in the middle of _those_ arguments… And I start channeling all of Michael's frustration."

Liz felt a sudden rush of amusement as she realized exactly where this story was headed. "What did you do?" she asked.

Maria sent Alex a teasing look as she answered, "I hit Max."

Liz gaped. "_What_?"

"Yep," Maria said, sounding proud of herself. "I gave him a black eye."

"You _punched_ my boyfriend?" Liz demanded, torn between shock and annoyance for what had happened to Max and mirth at the entire situation.

Maria shrugged. "It was Michael's fault. If he hadn't been so angry, I never would have done it. Anyway, it wasn't like Max was seriously hurt."

"Oh," Alex said, "but you should have seen Max's face. He just stood there, stupefied. I don't think anyone really knew what to do. We all just stared at Maria. It didn't make any sense."

"How did you figure out what was going on?" Liz asked wonderingly. She could picture the scene so clearly, with Max standing stunned and all the others staring aghast at Maria. It was good that they could all look back on it now and laugh at what had happened, but she had a feeling that at the time they had been anything but amused.

"It was you, actually. You finally figured it out." Maria's smile faded slightly as she spoke, and she sounded weary, almost exhausted. "You started having dreams, memories of Antar. I was the first of the four of us to come into my powers, but you and Alex got yours soon enough. By the time Kyle found he could make things explode… well, at that point we knew."

She stopped, and it seemed as though there was more she wanted to say. But she lapsed into silence, and it was Alex who eventually murmured, "By that time, we were already at war."

"What are my powers?" Liz questioned.

"Premonitions. You see the future."

"Oh… like visions?"

"Sort of," Alex replied. "You get flashes. When you were really good at controlling them, you could occasionally make one come when you wanted it to. But usually, they just appeared suddenly, and caught you unawares."

Liz didn't say anything, but she couldn't help but wonder why, if she had the ability to see the future, she had not been able to prevent her own death.

Alex looked as though he was about to say something, when he paused, eyes turning towards the hallway. The sound of voices floated towards him, of feet pounding on the floor. It was distant enough that he had to strain to catch it, but he could hear the commotion nonetheless.

"What's going on?" Maria asked, picking up on the same sounds. Closing her eyes, she concentrated for a moment, then said, "I feel a lot of confusion. Hysteria. Fear." She licked her lips, opened her eyes, and added, "I think they're back."

"I'll check it out," Alex replied. "You guys stay here and keep working on Liz's powers. If it is Michael, Max, and Kyle, I'll come get you."

And he was gone, hurrying from the room.

Liz looked back down at her hands, trying to summon the attention needed to conjure energy blasts. But her mind was too full of other thoughts, and it was hard to push past the memories of what she had learned and focus on the task at hand.

"I missed you," Maria said suddenly.

Liz turned towards her best friend, pushing a few stray strands of brown hair out of her eyes. Honestly, she answered, "I'm sorry I'm not here, in this time. I… I can't even imagine what life would be like without you."

* * *

It was another room in the Resistance Base, one Max had not yet seen. It was large, a long rectangle with several tables against one wall. The tables were covered in charts and maps and pages of calculations. Stacks of books littered the floor, shoved unceremoniously around chairs and desks. It looked as though it was partially a storage room, and partially a meeting place.

The room was filled with people. There had to be at least twenty, almost all unrecognizable to Max. Some where older than him, a few younger, mostly all men. They gathered around Michael, asking questions, demanding explanations, their gazes travelling rapidly back and forth between Max and the hybrid General. Whatever else had happened, the attack in Santa Fe had left many people very unsettled.

Alex entered the room and immediately crossed to Michael's side.

Max sank wearily into the chair Michael shoved towards him. He didn't want to think about what he had just witnessed, but he knew he would never be able to forget Isabel's sneering face or the complete lack of emotion in her eyes as he stumbled back from her attacks. All around him, the room was filled with the noise and bustling activity, but he paid attention to none of it, lost in his own nightmare.

"Dad?"

Ava's hesitant voice brought him crashing back into the present, and he turned towards her with widening eyes. She was hovering just on the edge of the room, a few steps away from the door. Vilandra was standing behind her, but Zan and Skylar were nowhere in sight.

"Ava," Max managed to say in an even tone.

"Alright, everyone out!" Michael ordered, his tone sharp and demanding. The others looked resistant, rebellious even, but his glare was enough to send most of them running from the room. Only Kyle, Alex, Ava, and Vilandra remained behind.

"Uncle Max, is everything… are you alright?" Vilandra asked worriedly as she moved towards him.

"Ava, Vilandra," Alex interjected quickly, before Max could answer the question, "can you find Maria and Liz and ask them to come here?"

Ava gave him a hard look, as though trying to determine something, but she eventually nodded and walked from the room, Vilandra following behind.

And then it was just the four men.

Alex turned away from the others and walked over to the table. Staring down at the maps and charts, he asked Michael cautiously, "Any sign of Laurie?"

Michael shook his head. "I don't know. I didn't see her. I don't know if she made it out. The place was… destroyed."

"What about Tess?" Alex prompted. "Did she…?"

"No, she wasn't there," Max answered numbly, even though the question was meant for Kyle.

"We knew she wouldn't be, the rumors only said Isabel…" Michael muttered sourly. "And she _was_ there."

"And… uh… Khivar?" Alex pushed.

"No, no sign of him. I was surprised, I thought he would be there with Isabel," Michael answered, sounding a little more animated. "That was lucky for us, I would not have liked to have been forced to fight him as well. Isabel is problem enough."

"Don't count your blessings yet, Michael," Alex warned heavily. "Khivar now knows that Max is here. Whatever advantage of surprise we had, we've lost it. And besides, if Isabel was able to tell that this is Max from the past, we might be in even more trouble."

"She knew I was here already," Max said finally, when Michael and Alex both lapsed into gloomy silences. "She came looking for me. I… I never would have believed it if I didn't see her… but she was so… cold… ruthless… hostile. She… she _wanted_ to fight me."

"I know," Alex said, moving away from the table. "I know how hard it is to face her. But you have to understand, Max, that you can't just go looking for her because you want to… Because she wants to find you also, and it certainly is not for the right reasons."

Max did not answer.

Michael broke the uneasy silence by turning to Kyle and asking, "What did she do to you?"

He frowned, running a hand through his hair. "I don't really know. It was as though… as though I was dreaming, and she was controlling the dream. I saw… I saw Tess… she was…" He trailed off and shook his head, unwilling to describe exactly what he had seen Tess doing.

Michael did not push for details.

"So she now has the ability to force other people to dream? Even while they are awake?" Alex mused over this for a moment, then said, "I guess it makes sense. It is a natural progression of her powers."

"There is nothing natural about what she has become," Kyle grumbled.

Max rested his head on his hands for a moment, rubbing his eyes with his palms. Then he said wearily, "She doesn't know about Liz."

"What?"

He looked up, switching his focus to Alex. "She doesn't know about Liz. She was taunting me… it was clear she assumed that Liz was still… not here. She knows I am back, but she didn't know about Liz."

"Well, she isn't blood-related to Liz. It is understandable that she wouldn't be able to sense that… You didn't tell her?"

Max shook his head. "No."

Alex looked down at one of the maps on the table. "At least we still have that element of surprise."

"It isn't much. And everyone here is clamoring for explanations. We've told them a little, put them off as long as we could, but… it's not enough." Michael leaned against the wall, staring at the others. "We need a plan. And we need one quickly."

"Liz and Maria will be here soon," Alex murmured.

"Yes, and probably with Ava, Vilandra, Zan, and Skylar," Michael countered. "I'd rather not involve them in this plan."

"We might not have a choice," Alex replied. "We know Ava has always been a main target of Khivar's. Now that Max is here… Well, Khivar is going to be pretty eager to get his hands on her. She's a threat to his rule, but also leverage against Max."

"As long as she stays here…"

"She's only safe as long as this base is safe," Kyle finished. "And now that Santa Fe has fallen…"

"We're sure it is completely gone?" Alex questioned.

Michael and Kyle nodded in unison. It was obvious that they were both worried about the safety of the Resistance Base, and after what Max had seen, all the destruction around the safe-house in Santa Fe, the alien king could not blame them for being concerned. Khivar would go to any lengths to find him, and they were only safe as long as they were hidden.

It was Alex who spoke up, breaking the silence and asking the one question that was on all their minds.

"Fine. So what happens now?"


	9. Come Undone

Title: When Times Collide

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Summary: When Max and Liz's daughter comes to the past seeking help, two times collide in a desperate race to save the future.

* * *

Chapter Nine: Come Undone

"I cannot believe you would be such an idiot!"

Liz watched cautiously as everyone in the room reacted differently to Zan's furious words. The boy was nearly shaking with rage, his eyes smoldering. He glared furiously at Max, refusing to back down even when Maria interjected with a soft reprimand and Michael gave him a warning look.

"Zan, I think…" Ava began quietly, but Zan cut her off.

"No! You can't make excuses for him, Ava. He put his life in danger. And then my Dad and Uncle Kyle had to put _their_ lives in danger to save him. It was stupid and reckless and irresponsible."

"He doesn't understand the full extent of this war," Michael muttered, and Liz gave him a surprised look. The Michael she knew, the one from her time, would not have come so quickly to Max's defense. In fact, he would probably have been the one yelling at Max for being stupid.

"So, what? You're just going to let it go?" Zan sneered, shaking his head. "I can't believe you! Do you even _care_ about what he did?"

"Zan," Maria chided angrily, "stop that. Do not speak to your father in that way."

Zan hesitated slightly as he glanced at his mother. But the anger was still evident in his expression, and he still muttered sourly, "He _was_ being stupid."

Throughout the brief conversation, Max had remained quiet, staring hard at Zan. Alex and Kyle watched impassively, neither defending Max nor agreeing with Zan. Maria and Michael both looked displeased by their son's actions, and Ava looked hurt. Skylar's expression was difficult to read, but Vilandra was an open book, looking at Zan with a mixture of agreement and concern.

"Enough, Zan," Michael said firmly. "This will not solve any of our problems."

"Oh, so now they are _our_ problems?" Skylar asked suddenly, his words bitter and cold. "Now you want our input about everything? We're in this entire mess because nobody would tell us what was going on, and now you want…"

"Skylar!"

Skylar turned towards his father, lips pressed tightly into a thin line. "What? Ava goes to the past without telling anyone. Uncle Michael brings Uncle Max and Aunt Liz here without telling us before they arrive. Uncle Max goes off after Khivar without telling anyone. And then you and Uncle Michael go after Max without letting us help. Why would we think you want our help now?"

"He's right," Alex said suddenly, giving a little sigh. "Our communication has been… less than perfect. Our main power against Khivar is our ties as family. We can't jeopardize that."

"United we stand, divided we fall?" Liz whispered with a faint smile.

"Exactly," Alex agreed. He shot Max a pointed look. "From now on, we do things as a group."

"Oh, so he's allowed to be annoyed at Uncle Max and I'm not?" Zan asked sarcastically. "Great, just great."

"Zan…" There was a clear warning in Michael's voice.

"No, you know what? I'm sick of this. Stop acting like I don't have every right to contribute. I'm not much younger than you all were when you first started fighting this war. I'm not that much younger than Uncle Max and Aunt Liz are now, no matter how old they look. And I've been fighting this war longer than they have."

"We are trying to protect you," Maria snapped through clenched teeth.

Zan met her gaze and said bluntly, "You can't, Mom."

"Besides," Skylar added, "shouldn't you be trying to protect Max and Liz as well? I mean, they're practically useless. They don't know anything at all about what is going on. They've spent all their lives being sheltered, without a war hanging over their heads. They have no idea… they haven't fought, they didn't… it wasn't even until last year that they started having to deal with stuff."

"He's technically the King," Ava whispered. "And my Mom is the Queen."

"No, they're not," Zan countered. "They don't know anything. They can't lead. They're practically useless."

"That is not true," Liz interjected swiftly. "We're learning. And our knowledge and skill level does not change who we are."

"No, but it changes whether or not you are helpful," Skylar retorted. "Anyway, my Dad is also a king."

"Do you really think we've had it _easy_?" Max asked, giving Skylar a scrutinizing look. "That nothing has ever gone wrong in our lives?" When Skylar just shrugged in response, Max continued, "You have no idea how lucky you are, Skylar, to know exactly _who_ you are and _where_ you come from. You have never had to spend every waking minute trying to figure out where you belong. At least you _know_ who the enemy is and _why_ they want to kill you. You know why you are fighting. But Liz and I… we've had enemies all around us without understanding what war we were fighting. And it is so much harder to keep moving, to keep going forward when you don't even understand _why_ you are doing all this."

Zan lapsed into silence.

"And then, out of nowhere, you find out you are a king. Only, you don't find out the whole truth because the person who was supposedly helping you and guiding was really working for the enemy," Max continued, his words carrying an edge. "You are told you are meant to be with someone other than the woman you love," he glanced at Liz for a moment, "and that your destiny is to marry this other woman and lead people into war." With a sardonic smile, he added, "And don't get me started on the white room."

"It's not the same," Zan countered. "You haven't lead my life."

"No," Max agreed without hesitation. "No, it isn't the same. But my life has not been anywhere near as sheltered as you obviously think."

"It wasn't constant war, it wasn't…" Zan started, but Skylar cut him off.

"You never had to grow up without a mother." He was glowering at Max, and in that moment, Liz saw Tess in her son's eyes. There was something just a little bit different, harder, more on edge.

Liz had never stopped to wonder exactly what it was that made Tess seem so different from the other hybrids, but looking at Skylar, she realized exactly what had set the petite blonde apart. It was the look in her eyes, the calculating, determined to survive at all costs look that Liz suddenly knew had come from her years of be raised by Nasedo. By a soulless alien killer.

And now that same expression was seeping from Skylar's icy gaze.

War changed people, made them different. The price for survival in a time like this was giving up on the chance to truly _live_. Losing a bit of one's soul. That had happened to Tess for ten years before she came to Roswell, before she met the others.

Before Nasedo tore them apart and Khivar stole what little happiness they had left.

Liz found quite abruptly that she had never hate anyone as much as she hated Khivar in that moment.

Max was speaking again. "Yes, I did. I grew up without a biological mother. Or a father. I had my human parents, and I loved them so much. They were… are… amazing. But…" He stopped, considering his words for a moment, then said, "But it was not the same as having someone who… who knew who I really was. I had to lie, constantly, because…"

"Because telling the truth was too dangerous," Michael murmured.

Max nodded. "For the first ten years of my life, the only family I really had was Isabel and Michael."

"This is _ridiculous_," Ava interrupted, sounding weary and near hysterics. "Why are you even arguing over who had a worse life? Earth has fallen. Antar has fallen. Tel'Ar has fallen. Larek's planet is engaged in war against Khivar's troops and probably won't last much longer. We need to fight Khivar. He's the _actual_ enemy."

Skylar just silently fumed at all of them as he marched from the room. Kyle made a move to go after him, but Max shook his head.

"Let me talk to him."

"Evans, I don't think…" Kyle started, but Max had already left the room.

Liz bit her lip as she watched the two leave. Zan looked as though he wanted to go as well, but he remained behind, still frowning at his father. Kyle muttered something incoherent to himself, obviously not pleased that Max had decided to talk to his son. Ava and Vilandra both held their breath, waiting, and Alex closed his eyes with a resigned sigh and shook his head.

"Ava is right, we need to focus on Khivar," Michael said finally, breaking the tense silence. "And I think I might have a plan."

_

* * *

_

Max caught up with Skylar in the hallway outside yet another room. The eighteen-year-old alien was still seething, but Max had a feeling that he was always that way.

"You remind me of Tess," Max said softly, giving Skylar an appraising look.

Skylar rolled his eyes. "You barely even know my mother at this point."

Max nodded mutely. Zan had been right when he'd said that Max and Liz were not adults. However much they might look like it, they were still just teenagers, younger even than Skylar and Vilandra. Like little kids playing dress-up in their parents closed, forced into a situation they didn't fully understand.

Still, he pressed on, "You're right, I don't know much about her. But I know she was smart, determined, brave, powerful…" he paused, remembering how only a few weeks ago, at least in his time, Tess had strained her powers to the limit mind-warping many people while Max used his own gifts on Pierce's skeleton "…loyal…" And then he trailed off, remembering Kyle's haunted expression and the anger in Michael's voice as he spoke of what Tess had become.

Twisted. Corrupted. Evil.

"So you're saying you think I am like my mother? Smart, determined, brave, powerful, and loyal?" Skylar sneered.

Max shook his head. "Actually, I was thinking the trait that you two share is your incredibly pigheaded stubbornness. Your refusal to see anyone else's point of view even if that refusal ends up hurting yourself and other people."

"Don't talk about my mother like that!" Skylar growled, eyes narrowed dangerously. "You have no idea what life was like for her, growing up with Nasedo."

"You don't either," Max countered rationally. "None of us know. None of us were there."

"And yet you still presume to judge her?" Skylar spat, rolling his eyes. "And me? You are such a hypocrite! You don't even _know_ me."

"And you don't know me."

Skylar scoffed in reply, "Of course I do. I was nine when you died, and I still remember you."

But Max shook his head. "You remember someone else, Skylar. I'm not that person yet." He had a feeling that the older version of himself would have known how to talk to Skylar, how to get him to listen, to sympathize. Or maybe it was always Liz who did the talking since she was so much better at expressing herself. Either way, this Max wasn't really sure how to explain what he was trying to convey.

"Yes," Skylar said, agreeing in an icy tome. "You were different then. You were a leader, a king. Now you're just a boy." The other insults – useless, helpless, pathetic – hovered in the air between them. They were the same sneering comments that Isabel had thrown at Max, although Skylar did not know that.

Max forced himself not to react angrily to the accusation. The last thing he wanted was to start yelling at Skylar. But he had to make the boy listen to him.

"And what about you, Skylar? You're just a boy as well."

"I am more than that."

"Then why are you so angry? Why are you looking for excuses to hate me? Why are you so determined to put your own desires above our safety?"

Skylar bristled. "Are you calling me selfish?"

"I know I'm probably not the person you wanted to see," Max said with a careless shrug. "I know you wish Ava had brought Tess forward in time as well. She didn't. And I have no doubt that it isn't easy for you to deal with that."

"You have _no idea_ what I am feeling! You never did!" Skylar retorted, flushing with a mixture of emotions Max could not identify. There was anger and hurt and resentment, but something else as well, something indecipherable about the dark eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, confused.

Skylar's lips twisted into a snarl as he answered, "You walk in here like you are suddenly going to take over everything, like you know what to do. Like somehow your few months of experience dealing with the FBI and the skins counts more than my _eighteen years_!"

"And you're acting like you don't want me here."

"I don't."

There was a silence then, and Max groped blindly for words to say. He couldn't understand why Skylar would dislike him so much, why the resentment would so easily seep into every word Skylar uttered.

"Ava was always everybody's little princess," Skylar said finally, bitterly. "Even after you and Liz died, she was still… everyone still doted on her. And now you come back… But you're dead. Dead people are supposed to stay dead."

Max licked his lips. They were back the beginning, back to the real problem. He wasn't Tess, he wasn't the person Skylar wanted to see. And no matter how the dark-haired teenager might feel about the entire situation, about Max and Liz, about Ava, the jealousy that he did not get to see his mother again had turned into a fury powerful enough to block out all common sense.

Ironically, Max knew Skylar would react even worse if he did see his mother, if he learned the truth of what she had become.

The hybrid king let out a long, slow breath. "Here's the thing; I am here. Liz and I are ready to fight. And if we weren't what you wanted, what you wished for… well, that's too bad. But are you really going to throw away a chance to defeat Khivar just because you're disappointed in Ava's decision?"

Skylar hesitated, his expression and odd combination of defiant and ashamed. "You really think you can beat him?" he demanded finally, his tone skeptical.

Max folded his arms across his chest. "I'm going to try."

_

* * *

_

It was a few hours later when Liz wandered into a the bedroom they had given her and found Vilandra sitting silently on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the wall. She was so surprised to find her niece there that for a moment the brunette could do nothing but stare at her, confused.

Finally, she found her voice long enough to ask, "What's wrong?"

Vilandra rose to her feet. "Nothing," she answered, holding out her arms to display a pile of clothing she had brought. "Aunt Maria wanted me to give these to you. So you have something clean to change into. I was just going to leave them on the bed…"

She trailed off and did not finish the sentence.

Liz accepted the clothing quietly, smiling her thanks. Whatever Vilandra might say to the contrary, something was wrong. Otherwise she would have just left the clothes on the bed and not remained behind, waiting for Liz to come back to her room.

Liz dropped the clothing onto the bed and walked over to the window. It looked into some sort of strange greenhouse. Plants were growing against the walls and in buckets and rectangular pots in rows down the center. The ceiling was filled with eerily glowing yellow lamps that gave off a strange heat and even stranger scent.

"They simulate the sun," Vilandra murmured, nodding to the lamps. "They were created by Antarians to allow things to grow under ground. They… they're nice. They allow us to have something green… alive… down here."

"It's beautiful," Liz commented, letting her gaze travel over the plants. Then she tore her eyes away from the window and said, "I can't even tell how long I've been here. It feels like years… and like seconds."

Vilandra allowed a hint of a smile to show on her face. "I imagine it would be a little overwhelming." She hesitated, then added softly, "It isn't easy for any of us, either."

On a whim, Liz asked, "Do you remember Isabel at all?"

Vilandra shook her head mutely. After a moment of tense silence, she said, "I was so young when she was killed. Sometimes Dad will talk about her, but… it is always so painful for him."

"He loved her." Remembering what she had been told about their past lives, she added, "And he loved her in more than one lifetime."

Vilandra shrugged. "I know. But… it would be nice to… to know about her. Or Auntie Tess. No one really talks about them. Not the way they talk about you and Uncle Max."

Liz walked over to the bed and sat down. "You are much more like your father than your mother," she commented, giving Vilandra a scrutinizing stare.

"I know. People tell me often that I am truly my father's daughter. But I have some of my mother in me. I'm sure I do." She leaned against the wall, facing Liz. "Did you… did you like my mother?"

Liz blinked, surprised by the question. "Of course I did!" she answered swiftly, automatically. But Vilandra just stared at her, and after a moment Liz realized that the other girl did not believe her, and probably would not believe anything except the truth. She gave a weary sigh, running a hand through her hair and turning dark brown doe-eyes back towards the window.

How was she supposed to answer that question.

"I cared about her. I don't think we really started off on the right foot." Her relationship with Isabel had always been strained. There was no love between the two, although both cared deeply enough for Max to put aside their dislike and work together. She wondered if they became closer friends in the future, or if they remained distant?

Vilandra smirked. "And I understand you and Auntie Tess did not start out so well either."

"No," Liz murmured with a rueful smile. "No, we did not. I'm surprised you know about that."

"I don't know the details," Vilandra admitted, "but I've heard my Dad and Aunt Maria refer to it enough times to figure out that there was some bad blood there." She closed her eyes and swallowed back the choked emotion. "Nasedo really… really ruined everything for us, didn't he?"

"Yes," Liz answered with conviction.

Another silence fell, nearly deafening in its intensity. Then Vilandra spoke, her words filled with something Liz could not identify.

"What was my mother like?"

"Stunning," Liz replied, the first thought that came to mind. The statuesque hybrid had always been beyond beautiful, and it was the characteristic that first jumped out at Liz. Vilandra was pretty, but in a sweeter, less sensational way. There was none of Isabel's aloof glamour reflected in her daughter.

"Yeah, that is what my Dad and Uncle Michael always say," Vilandra agreed. "Whenever I ask them… but all they give me are these vague attributes." Her eyes became unfocused as her thoughts moved to something different, something distant and far away. In a newer, sharper tone, she asked, "What was she _really_ like?"

"The opposite of your father," Liz replied slowly, carefully picking her words. "He was quiet, a little shy, sweet… but Isabel was…" Scary. Somehow, she knew that was not the right word to say, and she groped quickly for something better, something more appropriate. "Fierce."

"Fierce?"

"She knew what she wanted and how to get it," Liz replied, elaborating slightly. She licked her lips, remembering how Isabel had gone out of her way to keep Maria on her toes after the blonde had discovered the truth about the others. "She was determined to protect those she loved, and God help anyone who got in her way."

Vilandra smiled faintly. "I wish I had memories of her."

"She looked out for her family. For all of us." Unbidden, thoughts of Senator Whitaker rose to Liz's mind, memories of how Isabel had abandoned her own surprise birthday party to rush to Tess' rescue, bravely facing an enemy they knew nothing about in order to protect someone who had turned to her for aid. "She was loyal. She really… when she cared for people, she _really_ cared for them."

Vilandra nodded silently, then said, "That sounds a lot like you."

Liz started, forcing her gaze back to the other girl. Vilandra was staring at her again, her expression almost haunting in its desire for answers, for knowledge. Liz let out a slow breath, wishing she had more to offer than just a few pointless words, anecdotes that would pale in comparison to the connection Vilandra longed to feel with her mother.

"She wasn't like me, not in the time I am from," Liz replied. "But… if anything all of you has told me is true, then I do become quite a bit more like her." She remembered with a chill the flashes she had seen when she touched Ava, the vivid images of her own death at Khivar's hands, the way she had glared at him, defiant until the end. It was not something she could have ever imagined herself doing before all of this happened. In those flashes, she seemed so much more like Isabel or Maria than like herself.

But war had changed her. It had changed all of them. And apparently she had become someone else, someone worthy of being a Queen.

"What about Auntie Tess?"

Liz grinned. "She was manipulative and deceitful," she replied with a smirk.

Vilandra narrowed her eyes. "Don't let Skylar hear you say that."

Liz tilted her head to the side, regarding Vilandra. After a moment of considering, she said, "You really care about him, don't you?"

"Skylar? Of course. He's practically family."

"No… I mean you… you love him."

Vilandra flushed a deep red, her cheeks burning. The pink tint crawled in both directions, down along her neck and up into her hairline. She wouldn't meet Liz's questioning gaze, but the way she played with the fabric of her shirt, her eyes downcast and a tiny smile tugging at her lips… the answer was obvious enough.

Liz didn't press the issue. Instead, she said, "Tess was a lot of other things as well. I think, maybe if Nasedo hadn't gotten to her, if she hadn't been so…" She was once again unable to find the correct word, and so she let the sentence hang in the air between them, unfinished, before rushing on, "Maybe then we would have been friends. I might have liked her, if the situation was different."

"You did like her, in the end," Vilandra whispered. "I remember. A couple times I asked you about her… You two did end up as friends. Not as close as you and Aunt Maria or Dad. Aunt Tess was closer to Aunt Isabel, I think… but still… you _were_ friends."

"Khivar destroyed a lot," Liz muttered. She wondered what Tess was like now, and whether or not she harbored any human emotions, any love for those who had once been her family. It was hard to believe that anyone could just leave their child behind to join the enemy, no matter what was done to them. But both Isabel and Tess had done that, and if nothing else, it showed just how truly terrifying Khivar was.

"I know. I just wish… I wish I had a chance to see her again," Vilandra answered, blinking back tears. "I don't… I don't agree with Skylar, with the way he is acting, but… I get it. I get why he feels so hurt, so betrayed…" She turned away from Liz and looked out the window and into the greenhouse. "I've heard it said that people aren't really gone as long as there is someone who still remembers them. But I… I _don't_ have memories of her. And Ava gets to see you both again, and I just…" She broke off, fighting back a small sob. "I just miss her so much."

"Oh, sweetheart…" Liz murmured.

Vilandra wiped at her eyes with her free hand and said, "Of course… when this is over, if you defeat Khivar… you're going to have to go back to the time you are from. And that means Ava will have to lose you all over again. I don't… I don't envy her that."

Liz frowned, having not thought about that at all. She knew Max desperately wanted to stop Khivar, to bring his sister back to the right side of the battle and to create a better future for his daughter. But how much better would the future be? The war had still destroyed so much, and defeating Khivar could not undo the damage.

There had to be a way to fix this, Liz thought grimly. A way to stop it all from happening. There had to be a way to save the future, and she was going to find it.

_

* * *

_

"Do you really think this plan is going to work?" Maria asked as she stepped into the bedroom, her gaze lingering for a moment on Alex before turning to Michael. She didn't know what they were talking about, but she had a feeling it was Isabel.

Michael shrugged. He was standing by the bed, his pose tense even as he tried to look calm and relaxed. She could see the hardness in his eyes, the way the stiff muscles of his neck stood out against his shirt.

"I'm sure we can manage it," he said finally, tiredly.

She gave a faint smile. "What did Max say about Isabel?"

It was Alex who answered with an exhausted sigh, "Nothing we didn't already know. She remembers nothing of Earth. Whatever Khivar has done to her mind, we do not know how to break her out of his trap."

"If this works… if we stop Khivar…" Maria murmured.

"When," Michael said firmly. "When, not if. We _will_ stop him."

"Are you sure about that?" Maria questioned, crossing towards her husband. "Michael, I want to believe we can win as badly as you do. But you have to be practical. Ava went to the past with no actual plan, just the vague notion that Max and Liz could help. Aren't you worried that you might be… rushing?"

Michael crossed his arms over his chest angrily and replied, "You think I am leading us on a suicide mission."

"I think Max is too eager to face Khivar and Liz just doesn't know enough about this time. I'm just… worried, Michael. I'm worried they're getting in over their heads, and we're so eager to believe that they are our Max and our Liz that we are standing back and letting them risk everything."

Alex interjected softly, a wry smile tugging at his lips, "When did you become the cautious one, Maria? I thought that was my job."

"I know it seems like we are moving quickly," Michael said as Maria shot a mock-annoyed look at Alex, "but what other choice do we have? The longer we wait, the easier it will be for Khivar and Isabel to crush us. We need to act now, strike while the iron is hot."

Maria gave a reluctant nod, not liking the plan but recognizing the truth in Michael's words. "And…" she swallowed back the lump in her throat as she forced herself to face Michael and Alex and ask, "What of Isabel? And Tess?"

Alex dropped his gaze and the air in the room thick and heavy. It took no time at all for Maria to understand that they had not been _talking_ about Isabel... they have been _arguing_ about her.

"Max did not tell us anything we did not already know," Michael repeated shortly. "Isabel has no memory of this life. She isn't Isabel. And I have no doubt that Tess is the same. If we cannot break Khivar's hold on them…"

"With Khivar dead, the hold might be broken anyway," Alex said firmly, desperately. "We have to at least give that a chance."

"And if it doesn't work?" Michael asked pointedly, his words harsh and grating. "What will you do then, Alex? With Khivar dead, Isabel will _still_ be a threat to us. Will you throw her into a prison while we try to figure out how to save her? We don't have anything strong enough to hold her, and that assumes we'd be able to catch her before she kills us anyway!"

"I know, but…"

"No, Alex, you don't know. None of us do. We just don't know what is going to happen, and we have to be prepared for the worst."

Alex flinched, then turned away from Michael. "Easy for you to say. It is not _your_ wife we are discussing."

For years, Maria had worked on her powers, honing them until she was able to block out the overwrought emotions of others in her vicinity. But the sudden rush of fury from Michael broke through her barriers, assaulting her senses and forcing her to grip her head against the pain of the migraine.

"Do you think I like making this decision?" Michael snarled, his voice layered with anguish and raw pain. "She's practically my sister. She's _family_, I love her, and this choice is tearing me up as well! You are _not_ the only one who is going to lose someone they love."

Instead of being cowed by Michael's rage, however, Alex just drew himself up, lifting his chin and replying forcefully, "Then why you so willing to give up on her?"

Maria winced. Michael's anger had destroyed her barriers, but it was the sense of helpless despair radiating from Alex that nearly sent her to her knees. She sagged back against the wall, closing her eyes and trying to push away the cascading emotions.

"I am not giving up on her!"

"Yes, you are. You say our only option is to you see if killing Khivar will free her, and if it doesn't, then you're ready to just rid yourself of her as well. You say it would be too difficult to catch her, to contain her. But have you really given it any thought? Have you tried to come up with a plan that doesn't not involve killing my wife?"

There was a tense silence, then Maria said weakly, "Stop it. Both of you." She opened her eyes and gave them each a long look, rubbing her temples with her fingertips. "Alex, you are not the only person here who cares about Isabel."

Alex inhaled slowly. "You're right, I'm not. But sometimes I seem to be the only one willing to fight for her." And without another word, he walked past her and out of the room.

Maria sank onto the bed, her eyes sweeping the room. It was a cluttered mess, bottles of Echinacea and cedar oil lining the shelves and books on yoga, meditation, and sooth-saying strewn carelessly about the desk and the dresser surfaces. There was very little to indicate that this was Michael's room as well, but the taciturn General had never really collected anything anyway. He preferred the Spartan look to Maria's clutter, and yet somehow she would always win the arguments when it came to decorating their room.

"Michael?"

He turned towards her, eyebrows raised.

"If the plan works… even if we do manage to defeat Khivar… the truth about Isabel and Tess will come out. How are we going to handle that?"

There was more to the issue than just Vilandra and Skylar's reactions. And although those would not be easy to deal with, they were not what was worrying Maria at the moment. Regardless of what she had implied to Max and Liz, it was no coincidence that the majority of people in the Resistance, or even on the entire planet, did not know who Isabel or Tess were. Humans were inherently distrustful of anyone who was different, and when it came to aliens, most humans were downright hostile. The Resistance functioned only through what little trust they had been able to win from the constantly-suspicious people who shared the planet. But if it became widely known that Khivar's two biggest allies were Max's sister and Kyle's wife… any credibility the remaining hybrids had would be completely lost, and the Resistance would crumble.

Defeating Khivar might bring about an end to the war, but it would not stop the conflict. There would still be more work to do, rebuilding the planet and forcing alliances with others, alliances built on more than just fear and desperation. And when people learned the truth about Isabel and Tess… forging those alliances would become even harder.

"We will cross that bridge when we get there," Michael answered simply.

She did not reply. Michael turned to leave. But Maria looked up from the bed, her voice calling him back.

"Michael?"

"Yeah?" He stopped in the doorway, waiting.

"Why didn't Khivar come?"

He stared at her.

"Why wasn't Khivar with Isabel? The two of them could have easily overpowered you all, killed Max. If it was really a trap, why wasn't Khivar there? What was he waiting for?"

Michael ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know."

She nodded, accepting his answer, and frowned down at her own hands, wishing things made more sense. She could not shake the feeling that there was something blatantly obvious, something staring them directly in the face, and she simply could not see it.

"Michael?" she said again.

"Yes?"

"Are you… are you going to tell Max and Liz?"

"Tell them what?"

"About Ava. About Khivar being after her?" He said nothing, and Maria pressed, "It's the last piece of the puzzle we haven't explained to them. But Khivar… he wants more than just you. More than just them. Max and Liz… they don't know it yet. They don't know… what he is willing to do to kill her."

Michael gave her an unreadable look. After a moment, he replied, "Why burden them with it? They have too much to deal with as it is, any mention of the type of danger Ava is in… No, I don't plan on telling them." He left the room then, and though she debated calling him back, she ended up just sitting quietly and watching his retreating figure disappear into the hallway.

The group was strong, far stronger than Khivar could have ever anticipated. They'd had these sorts of arguments before, and Maria knew the emotion would fade, and before long Alex would be apologizing in his eloquent way, and Michael would be grumbling his own, less-coherent apology, and the two would forget their quarrel. But the fault lines _were_ there, and the cracks grew longer and deeper every time they argued. She wondered, sometimes, if they would ever reach an argument they could not overcome.

Khivar might not have won yet, but he was slowly destroying them.

Michael had always been adamant about the need to protect Ava. It made sense, given that she was one of Khivar's main targets now. But more than that, she was a reminder of what they had lost. Michael had been unable to save Max and Liz, none of them could have saved Isabel, and no one had even realized it when Tess was compromised. Michael had promised Max and Liz that if anything should happen to them, he would protect Ava forever.

And that was a promise he would not break.

But the truth was that Khivar would come after Ava. He had gotten to her once before, not so long ago, and he would somehow get to her again. Michael might not want to burden Max and Liz with that truth, with the realization that their daughter's life was the main target in this war, but she doubted he could keep it a secret much longer.

After all, they had their plans… but Khivar had plans as well.

And now, in this time, everything always seemed to come back to Ava.


	10. Further Into the Dark

Title: When Times Collide

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: Just a brief reminder for people to understand the flashbacks, in their past lives, Tess was Tarea, Kyle was Karan, Maria was Rain, and Alex was Ansem.

Summary: When Max and Liz's daughter arrives in the past, two times collide in a desperate race to save the future.

* * *

Chapter Ten: Further Into the Dark

"How are you holding up?"

Liz glanced up as Max entered the room, his expression tired. She tried to give him an encouraging, reassuring smile, but figured she must have failed miserably at it, because he only looked even more exhausted. She drew a slow breath and tried to figure out how she could possibly even begin to answer that question.

"It is a lot to take in," she said finally. She glanced across the room at the full-length mirror nailed to the wall. "So this is what I will look like in two decades," she muttered under her breath.

"You look beautiful," Max replied, taking a seat next to her on the edge of the bed. He pushed a few strands of dark hair out of her eyes and added, "You always did. And always will."

Liz gave him a faint smile. "You're biased."

Max laughed, although the mirth did not quite reach his eyes. "True," he agreed softly. "But I'm also right."

Liz leaned against him. "I just wish…" She stopped abruptly, cut off the sentence. She was going to say she just wished that they had had more time to absorb everything, that they weren't risking their lives and the lives of everyone they cared about on some far-fetched plan. But there was no point in wishing for things that could not come true.

"I know," Max agreed, because even though she did not finish the thought, he did not have to hear the words aloud to know what she had been thinking.

Liz licked her dry lips. "I'm half-alien," she said. And although she had known it for a while now, although she had used powers and had spoken with Maria and Alex about controlling them, although she had seen flashes of her past and future… she still could not quite bring herself to believe that everything she had ever known was a lie.

But it was.

"I know," Max replied.

"Why didn't my parents ever tell me?" Liz questioned. "Why didn't… how did they… How did I never know I was adopted? Why wouldn't I remember… remember any of it?"

Max wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. She rested her head against his chest and listened to the steady thump of his heart as he answered, "I don't know. But you can ask them when we get home."

"How?" Liz demanded with a dark chuckle, her words harsher than she had intended. "How are we getting home? The Granolith has already been used once… by Ava. How are we going to…" She trailed off and shook her head, filled with worry.

"We'll figure it out," Max answered. "Once we stop Khivar, rescue Isabel and Tess… then we'll figure out how to get home."

"That simple, huh?" Liz whispered in reply, her words half-bitter, half-teasing. Max looked crestfallen at her response, and she inwardly sighed, knowing she shouldn't be taking her frustration out on him. He was just as overwhelmed, just as lost, just as scared, as she was. And none of this was in any way his fault.

It wasn't anyone's fault but Khivar's. And, she supposed, Nasedo's. The two of them had ruined everything, turning lives inside-out and upside-down in an effort to hold on to their power. How many had they killed? How many had they hurt, emotionally and physically, in their quest for total control?

How had everything fallen apart so much?

"How did you… how did you handle it?" Liz asked at last, lifting her chin and looking at Max. "When you discovered that you were different? When you realized you were an alien? When you found out you were a king? How did you… how did you deal with all of that?"

"By remembering that I wasn't alone," Max replied honestly. "When I knew I was different… well, I had Isabel. By the time we figured out that being different had to do with being alien, Michael had shown up again. And then, when I found out I was a king… well, I had you."

Liz raised one eyebrow and replied pointedly, "If I remember rightly, I told you that I wouldn't stand in the way of your destiny and left for the entire summer."

Max nodded, but gave her a smile. "You were my destiny. It just took us a little while to figure it out. I love you."

"I love you, too," Liz answered.

"And, anyway… even if you we weren't romantically involved during this past summer… you were still there, Liz. I knew, if I needed your help, if the world was ending, I could count on you. Just like I could count on Isabel and Michael. And Maria, Alex, even Tess. We were all in this together."

"Just like we are now," Liz retorted, "except for the fact that we don't have Isabel or Tess. And that you and I are dead." She pushed herself back further on the bed, leaning against the headboard. "We have to fix this," she said, her voice filled with determination. "Somehow… we have to fix this."

Max removed his arm from her shoulders and took both his hands in hers. "We will. I promise."

And somehow, for reasons she could not explain in any rational or logical fashion, she believed him. She leaned in to kiss him, but the moment their lips touched, the world burst into color behind her closed eyelids, and she was suddenly in a different lifetime, on a different planet.

"_Nice place to think, isn't it?"_

_Ava glanced up at the sound of the voice floating to her through the air. The wind whipped past her, ruffling her dark hair, throwing it into her eyes as she turned. She pushed it away and frowned, surprised to see Tarea stepping out onto the balcony._

_Still, she had been asked a question, and so she answered it, "It is. A very nice place to think."_

_Tarea looked around, her arms wrapped around herself to keep out the chill. She was wearing a sleeveless blue dress that matched her sapphire eyes, and her blonde curls were swept away from her face with a blue diamond-studded tiara._

_Ava looked down and smooth her hands over the red silk of her own gown. The tense silence was almost unbearable, and she wished she could make some form of small talk, but her mouth never seemed to work properly around the other woman._

_She did not like Tarea._

_And she simply did not understand what Karan saw in her._

_She had come to this party solely because Karan had requested it. He was her best friend, and had been since they were both children. As the new Queen of Antar, she could have easily come up with a thousand excuses for why she was far too busy to attend this particular gathering. Who cared that it would have been the height of rudeness to turn down an invitation from the Queen of a neighboring planet. At least Ava would not have had to spend any time in the same room as that conniving, manipulating, lying…_

"_You don't really like me, do you?" Tarea's voice cut into Ava's thoughts._

_The brunette sighed. "Do you care about my opinions?" she asked pointedly. "You already have what you want. Power, beauty, brains… and a husband."_

_Tarea glanced down at the engagement ring on her finger. "True," she agreed._

_Karan had begged Ava to come, had said that there was something he needed to tell her. She knew that he had been dating the esteemed Queen of Tel'Ar, knew that he sang her praises every single time anyone even mentioned her name. What she had not known, had not expected, was for him to announce their engagement._

_She felt sick._

_And so she had ended up slipping away from the party, unnoticed by the other guests, and seeking refuge in the cool night upon the balcony overlooking the royal garden below._

"_So, you're really going to do this, then?" Ava asked after a slight hesitation._

"_Do what?" Tarea answered. "Marry him?" She frowned, wrinkles marring her forehead. "Of course. Why wouldn't I?"_

_Ava shrugged, didn't look at the other Queen as she answered, "You do not gain anything from it." Tarea said nothing, and so Ava continued bravely, "You have a reputation, you know. As an opportunist. You pursue things you can win, people you can take something from. What will you take from Karan?"_

_Tarea crossed the balcony slowly, her steps firm and unwavering, her voice filled with ice as she answered, "I love him. What is there to take besides that?"_

_Ava whirled around, eyes narrowed fiercely. "He is my best friend. If you hurt him, you _will_ pay for it."_

_Tarea's lips split into a thin smile. "I would expect nothing less from you. Your loyalty is admirable, though your determination misplaced. I will not hurt him."_

"_Why should I believe you?" Ava asked pointedly._

_Tarea seemed to actually consider this for a moment. Then she gave a slight shrug and said, "I had only come out here because I wanted to ask you if it would be possible for us to… at the very least… be civil… to each other. For Karan's sake." She tilted her head to the side and added, "But if you don't want to do that, I suppose I can't really force you to."_

"_Prove to me that I have a reason to trust you, and I will be civil," Ava challenged. "In fact," she added, "I will be nice. _Friendly_."_

_Tarea nodded. "Fine." She turned and walked back inside, and Ava watched the way her dress swirled back and forth around her feet, hovering just above the floor. Everything about her seemed suspicious, from the smile she cast back over her shoulder as she disappeared back into the ball room to the way her body moved with feral grace as she walked, like a predator._

"_Karan is my best friend," she said aloud to the empty night air. "I won't let him get hurt."_

_There was no answer from the silence around her._

_The new Queen of Antar ran a hand over her face and gave another sigh. It was going to be a long night._

The vision faded, and Liz blinked away the last remnants of the memory. Max was watching her with a quiet stare, concern etched into the lines of his face. She forced a smile and shook her head, hair rustling about her shoulders.

"Liz?"

"Just a flash. Of our other lives. I think… I think I didn't really like Tess."

Max accepted this with a puzzled look, but didn't push the subject. Instead, he just stared at her, as though memorizing the lines of her face. She stared back, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"I heard you were talking to Vilandra," Max said after a moment, breaking the peaceful silence that had fallen between them.

Liz nodded. "She wanted to know about her mother and Tess."

"As much of the truth as I could," Liz answered honestly. She knew a lot would change in between the time she was from and the time that she now currently occupied, and much of what she had told Vilandra would be altered, and perhaps no longer be true at all. She could not help but wonder what would change in the future, and she could only pray that at least some of it would be for good.

"That's fair enough," Max murmured.

"It's weird," Liz said after a momentary pause, "to think that so many of our perceptions, all the things we believed… they were just _wrong_."

"Nasedo… did a lot," Max answered. "A lot of damage. A lot of… of harm." His words were filled with anger and hatred, so full of emotion that he could barely speak.

"We will fix it," Liz answered, their roles reversing, this time her needing to reassure Max and not the other way around.

Max rose to his feet and began to pace, loud, angry steps along the floor. She did not know what thoughts had entered his mind, but it was clear from the dark and dangerous expression that he was thinking of Khivar, of this war, of all that he had lost. She wondered, briefly, what Zan had been like before a battle. Was he this tense as well? Did he shake with such fury, did he tremble with such fear?

"The world is crumbling," Max said finally. He looked at Liz, although he did not stop his pacing. "I want to fix it, but what if we are too late?"

"One step at a time," Liz replied. "First we defeat Khivar, then we save Isabel and Tess, then we worry about the rest of the world. We can do this. Just… one step at a time. And _together_, as a group."

"Together," Max repeated, and he sagged a little, the anger draining ever so slightly from his eyes. He sat down on the bed again, and the two lapsed into silence for several minutes.

The room was still, nothing breaking the peace except for the steady rhythm of the clock on the wall, ticking away each passing second.

Finally, Max said, "I was thinking… tomorrow… it would be nice to see Jim Valenti. If he is… if he feels up to visitors."

Liz nodded. "We can ask Kyle. We… we should get some sleep now."

Max nodded, his thoughts still obviously elsewhere, his attention drifting past her and focusing instead of the battle to come. "Sleep," he murmured distractedly, "sounds like a good idea."

* * *

_  
_

The rage, Kyle knew, never went away.

He wasn't sure how Alex managed to hide it so well, buried deep beneath calm smiles and blank stares, shoved into the back of his mind. But he did know that it was just hidden, not completely gone, and that, some day, somehow, it would come bursting forth.

Sometimes, when he watched Skylar sulking in the hallways or angrily stomping back and forth across the floor of his room, he wondered if rage was genetic. Could it be passed down from father to son, even when the son did not know the full extent of why he was angry? Could it somehow be tied tightly into DNA, like eye color and metabolism and all the other hundreds of things that were determined by coded genes.

There were times, also, when he let his gaze fall on Michael or Maria and saw the way the pain in their eyes was so often just disguised fury. He knew it hurt them when Max and Liz had died, probably more than it had hurt anyone else besides Ava. They were the closest to the King and Queen of Antar, and they were the ones who grieved the most at what they had lost.

He did not believe in the five stages of grief, not the way they were laid out like stepping stones to the final goal of acceptance. He'd felt them all – the denial, the anger, the bargaining, the depression, the acceptance. Except that the anger had still stayed. Somehow, he'd managed to move on to bargaining, depression, and acceptance without ever having to let go of his anger. He knew, better than most, that the fives stages of grief were not exclusive steps. He felt all of them at once, and then only one, and then a few at a time. But the anger was always there, either blaring at the forefront of his mind or lingering in the background, mocking him.

There were many, many things in this world he did not know, did not understand, could not even begin to comprehend. But the one thing he did know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, was that the rage, the fury, the anger, the wrath…

It never went away.

He'd taken to wandering the halls of the Resistance Base at night. He hadn't been able to sleep for more than a few hours at a time, not since Tess had first disappeared. And his insomnia had only gotten worse after the war had taken away his father and left the destroyed remnants of a man in his place.

And so, here he was, once again, pacing up and down the hallway, forever longing for the sleep that would not come.

Unlike the other times, however, he soon realized he was not alone.

The echoing of footsteps caught his attention, and he turned in time to see Ava appear at the end of the hallway. She paused when she saw him, then gave a tentative smile and began walking quickly, her steps growing louder as she approached.

"Hi, Uncle Kyle," she said softly as she reached him. "Couldn't sleep?"

He shook his head. "No, not even a little. You?"

Ava shrugged. "Stressed, I guess. Or anxious. I don't know. I just… I'm worried. I mean, what if this isn't enough? What if something goes wrong? What if it was really stupid to bring my parents back here? Do you think it was stupid? Do you think I shouldn't have done it? I don't know what I think."

As usual, the simple question elicited a rush of nervous words for an answer, and far more information than Kyle had really wanted.

Kyle sighed. "Ava, you took a chance, took a risk. None of us can know for certain what will come of it. We just know that you… you are trying to help."

"And if it _doesn't_ help?" Ava countered, biting her lip. The fourteen-year-old looked suddenly lost and scared, so different than she had before when she was standing up for her decision, arguing the reasons for her surprise trip to the past.

She was scared now, and the defiant, determined fighter was gone, replaced by a normal fourteen-year-old with a far too heavy burden on her shoulders.

"Then we will deal with that when it happens," Kyle answered honestly.

Ava gave a half-hearted nod and slumped wearily against the whitewashed wall of the hallway. For a moment, she said nothing, just stared blankly ahead into the dim light. After a few moments of contemplation, however, she asked in a curious voice, "Uncle Kyle, what was it like? Before?"

"Before what?" Kyle asked, confused.

She shrugged, bit her lip. "Before the war. When everyone lived out in the open. What was it like?"

Kyle paused, trying to gather his thoughts. He had no idea how to even begin explaining that to someone, let alone Ava. She wouldn't understand, because someone who had only known war could not even begin to comprehend what peace was like.

"It was different. Things were… easier."

"What were my parents like?"

Kyle sighed. "A lot like the two you just brought forward to this time," he answered. Though this Max and Liz were more willing to accept that they needed to fight, more able to bend to whatever necessary risks needed to be taken. He could only assume it was because they had now seen the future and knew what lay in store for them should they fail. But the Max and Liz he had known in high school had not been as willing to do that. They had not yet seen war, had not fully understood what it would do to them.

Ava accepted this in silence.

After a moment, Kyle continued, "Your father was always cautious. He didn't like taking risks, didn't like putting people in danger. He didn't have to… because the war hadn't started and we were… relatively safe. I think he wanted to keep it that way. He was a lot like your Aunt Isabel. He wanted to be human."

"But he wasn't," Ava countered dryly.

Kyle shrugged. "Not fully. But I think sometimes we forget… we _are_ half-human. We belong here just as much as we belong anywhere else."

Ava licked her lips. "I want that. I want to feel like I belong here."

Kyle knew he should offer her some platitude, some promise that she did belong. But he also knew that she would see through his words, because comforting though they may be, they would also be little more than lies. The war had taken that from them as well, torn away even the tiniest sense that they could call this place home. Khivar had seen to it that the majority of humans turned against all aliens, calling them all evil, assuming they were all the enemy. And that meant that even here on Earth, they did not belong.

So Kyle just shrugged again and said, "Don't we all?"

They both lapsed into silence until Ava whispered, "I'm scared, Uncle Kyle."

He placed a hand on her shoulder, a comforting gesture meant to remind her that they were all in this together, and that, as one, they would stand against Khivar, they would fight him. And, with any luck, they would win.

But if he was honest with himself, he was scared, too. Terrified. He'd lost Tess, and then Isabel, then Max and Liz and his father. Not all of them had died, but they'd all been lost anyway, and he was left clutching at fragments of his life, trying to force himself to move forward. And now they would face Khivar again, and risk once more losing everything.

But more than the fear, he felt anger. Anger that Ava would even have to ask what peace felt like, anger that she had never experienced it. Anger that Tess was gone, that Isabel was gone, that his father had become someone almost unrecognizable. Anger that they did not belong anywhere, that it felt as though they would perpetually be outcasts, unable to call any place home.

Because, even after all these years…

…the rage never went away.

* * *

_  
_

What ever Max had expected as he stepped into Jim Valenti's room, it was not to find the other man sitting at a small writing desk, staring blankly through unseeing eyes at the wall before him. It was almost as though the one-time Sheriff was completely unaware of his surroundings, trapped inside his own mind. Kyle had told him that this was likely, that Jim was not always cognizant of the world around him, that his words were not always coherent or logical. But still… this he had not expected.

Kyle had not been thrilled by Max's request, but he had reluctantly agreed to it, albeit with several warnings not to disturb his father in any way.

So, now, Max and Liz stood in the doorway of the stark room, unsure and awkward, wondering what they were supposed to do.

Kyle stepped around them and into the room. "Dad?"

Jim turned at the sound of his son's voice, and Max inhaled sharply as he caught sight of the other man's eyes. They were unfocused and cloudy, clearly conveying a sense of bewilderment and unease. If the eyes were the windows to the soul, then Jim Valenti's soul had long since been ruined by the war.

"Footsteps on the floor," Jim said, his voice hoarse and pained, sound running across gravel. "Tomorrow comes."

"Dad, it's me. Kyle. I brought Max and Liz."

For a moment, something shifted in Jim's eyes, and he appeared almost lucid. "They're dead," he said bluntly, his words sharp and strong. But then, almost as soon as it had come, the spark fizzled out, replaced once more by dampened confusion. "Three blind mice."

"You're not a mouse," Kyle countered, gesturing for Max and Liz to take a seat on the bed. "And there is only one of you. Not three."

Max sat cautiously on the edge of the bed, resting his hands on the starched white fabric beneath him. He let his gaze sweep the room. It was devoid of any color, and had no frills or elaborations on the plain decorations. There was a single picture, a smiling family portrait of Jim, Kyle, and Tess, taken at some point when the two hybrids were still in high school. The photograph rested in a simple black frame atop a wood dresser in between the desk and the bed. Two chairs were pushed against the far wall, blocking the door to the closet.

"He's blind?" Liz asked as she stepped further into the room. Instead of sitting on the bed, she took a seat in one of the chairs across from Max and glanced uneasily at Jim, as though concerned that she might say something to upset or offend him.

"He can still hear you," Kyle snapped at her. "He's blind, not deaf."

Max shook his head, privately thinking that it did not matter if Jim could hear them or not since it was quite clear that he could not understand what they were saying.

"What happened to him?" Liz asked softly.

"Khivar. We don't know the full details. We were never able to… to figure out what exactly caused it, so we couldn't undo it." Kyle lapsed into an abrupt silence, and ran a hand through his hair.

"And now he just says nonsensical things all the time?" Max questioned. He knew his words were harsher than he had intended, and he gave an apologetic smile as Kyle visibly flinched. "I didn't mean…" he started, fumbling for a better way to address the issue, but Kyle cut him off.

"I know what you meant, Evans," he said firmly. "But no, it isn't just gibberish." He frowned, then spoke slowly as though choosing his words carefully, "Sometimes he says things and they… they make sense later. It's like he's telling us… what is going to happen. We just don't understand it until it happens."

"Your Dad can see the future?" Max asked skeptically. "Is he an alien, too?"

Kyle rolled his eyes at the question. "No. It's not like that. It's just… look, I can't explain it, alright? We don't even know what Khivar did to him, but it made him… change. He just… he's different. But he says things, and its like… prophecies."

"Your father is a prophet?" Liz asked with barely contained suspicion.

Kyle let out an angry huff of breath. "Yes," he retorted sarcastically, "my Dad speaks to God all the time."

"Plagues. A plague on both your houses," Jim interjected.

Liz bit back a smile and said, "He's quoting Shakespeare? Well, at least he still has good taste."

"You would think that, wouldn't you?" Kyle replied, but to Max's surprise, he was smiling. His earlier anger had faded just a little bit, and he shook his head at Liz with something akin to amusement.

"The ninth plague," Jim added, his words echoing in the stillness of the room.

"Jim?" Max said, standing to his feet suddenly and taking a few steps forward. "Uh… Jim? Can you hear me?"

"I told you, he isn't deaf," Kyle muttered under his breath.

Jim turned unseeing eyes towards Max, and once again, the blankness faded for a moment. "Hello, Max."

"I'm sorry," Max said softly, "that all this happened to you. But we're going to find a way to fix it."

Jim nodded. "I know," he said. He, too, rose to his feet, leaving the desk behind as he walked towards Max. He stopped, however, and turned around, eyebrows coming together in confusion.

"Dad?" Kyle asked softly. "Are you alright?"

Jim did not answer.

Kyle sighed. "This happens, sometimes," he explained to Max. "He'll be lucid for a brief moment, and then its all gone again."

Max nodded, and took the opportunity to study Jim. The older man was stooped over, his shoulders rounded slightly. His hair was streaked with gray, and his frame was sunken slightly, signifying the lack of physical activity. His face was hollow.

Max felt his utter hatred of Khivar rise just a few more notches.

The door suddenly swung open and Skylar poked his head into the room. "Grandpa, are you…" He trailed off abruptly when he saw Kyle, Max, and Liz standing there. "Oh. Am I interrupting?" he asked.

But Jim had turned towards Skylar, and his face lit up. The confusion was still there, the blankness of the expression unsettling and disturbing, but there was a light in his eyes that indicated that he knew exactly who had just entered the room, even if he couldn't respond to it on any rational level.

"No, come on in," Kyle said quickly.

Skylar took a few more steps into the room. "Hey, Grandpa," he said. He walked into the room, and was followed by Vilandra. She smiled shyly at Max and Liz, and wrapped her arms around herself in an unconsciously nervous gesture.

"Fire and ice," Jim said.

That caused Vilandra to grin, and she held out one hand in front of her. A moment later, a burst of flame flickered on her fingertips, then nestled in the palm of her hand. Skylar, standing next to her, smiled as well, and lifted his own hand. A moment later, he was holding ice crystals.

It was Liz who broke the silence. "You two have opposite powers," she commented.

Vilandra nodded, the fire fading until it was extinguished. "We do," she agreed.

Max glanced in between Vilandra and Skylar, noting the tender look his niece gave to Kyle's son as she answered Liz's question. He found himself grinning as well as realization settled over him. He caught Liz's eye, and she gave a subtle nod, indication that she agreed with him.

Vilandra and Skylar were in love.

He wondered if they had even realized it yet.

From the very first moment he had set eyes on Liz, he had fallen in love with her. But he hadn't known it was love, not until several years later. He wondered vaguely if Vilandra and Skylar were the same, if they thought what they had was just chemistry or infatuation and had not yet realized that it was so much more than that.

Jim touched his arm, and Max started, looking back at the ex-Sheriff.

"There's always light in the darkness," Jim murmured.

Then he groaned suddenly, his hands going to cover his blank eyes. For a moment, no one moved or spoke, then Vilandra moved to his side and rested her hand on his elbow.

"Jim?" she whispered.

Skylar walked briskly to his grandfather's other side and started talking to him in a low tone. At the same time, Kyle reached out and guided Max and Liz from the room, practically pushing them out the door and into the hallway.

"I think that's enough visiting for now," Kyle said as soon as he closed the door behind him.

Max nodded. "I… I'm sorry if we… disturbed him."

But Kyle just shook his head. "You didn't do any of this, Max," he said quietly, seriously. "And I think he likes having visitors, even if he can't communicate with them. It is still better than sitting alone day, every day."

"He certainly likes seeing Skylar," Liz commented.

Kyle nodded, his expression somewhat guarded as he replied, "What person doesn't like seeing his grandson?"

Again, there was a silence, and then Liz asked, "Kyle? Can I ask you… do you remember Tess? I mean… not Tess, but… who she was before. In our past lives."

Kyle nodded, not really sure where the conversation was going, and explained, "Bits and pieces. Not all of it, obviously. But I do remember her. Why?"

"I was just wondering… what she was like," Liz said sheepishly, flushing slightly.

Max watched the exchange with interest, remembering what Liz had told him the night before. She didn't remember much of their past lives, but the flash she'd had of Tess… no, of Tarea… had been enough to worry her. He couldn't blame her, it had taken him a long time to learn to trust Maria, Alex, or Kyle as well.

"You have a memory of her, and you don't like her," Kyle said dryly, apparently able to accurately read Liz's expression, to interpret what was in between the lines of her question.

"Yes," Liz admitted.

Kyle hesitated, then extended his hands and took both Max and Liz by the arms. Before Max could question what was happening, he was thrown forcefully into a vision of the past.

"_Ava and Zan will attend the Inter-Galactic Council," Karan said as he slid slowly into his seat at the small table. Tarea glanced up from the fruit salad she had been contemplating and raised one eyebrow questioningly. Karan sighed, and continued, "I thought perhaps you could speak to Ava again."_

_Tarea rolled her eyes. "She does not care to be friends with me. Why should I continue to ask her? I will not beg for her civility."_

"_You did little to leave a good impression the first time you met her," Karan retorted pointedly. "You called her arrogant and empty-headed."_

"_She called me a viper."_

"_You called her a gold-digger and accused her of marrying Zan for his thrown."_

_Tarea did not respond._

_Karan stared at his own plate of fruit, then looked around the small breakfast chamber where they were eating. They were alone, as was usual for this time of day, and often they used the brief privacy to discuss more personal matters. But Tarea was obviously distracted, her mind travelling quickly back to pressing matters of state and the upcoming Council._

_He watched as she moodily pushed her food around on her plate._

"_Tarea," he tried again, "you really can't afford to alienate the King and Queen of Antar."_

_Her eyes flashed dangerously. "And they cannot afford to alienate us. You do not have to worry about that, though, for none of us are foolish enough to risk destroying our treaties and truces just to spite the other. I would not do that to my people, nor would Ava do it to hers. Particularly not now that dangerous factions have begun to gain popularity."_

"_You are worried about Khivar," Karan remarked._

_She nodded, then retorted, "Aren't we all? But it is not my thrown he is after." Rising to her feet, she added bitterly, "I am not hungry. I will see you later." And without a backwards glance, she swept from the room._

_The scene changed, fading away until it was replaced by a garden. A long path of well-trodden dirt stretched through overgrown groundcover and bunches of red and white flowers, and above, the intertwined branches of trees offered cool shade as a reprieve from the scorching sun._

_Karan stood in the shadow of some trees, off the path, almost hidden. He was clearly eavesdropping on a conversation, although whether he had come upon this by intent or by accident was unclear._

_Ava and Tarea were standing in the middle of the path, talking. Neither seemed aware of Karan's presence._

"_Where are your body guards?" Ava asked, looking around. "Lurking in wait just in case I try to attack you?"_

_Tarea offered a thin smile. "I dismissed them. I do not need them unless I am at the conference."_

"_The Inter-Galactic Council is going well. We have managed to come to some agreements," Ava commented._

_Tarea shrugged. "Only about easy questions. The more difficult conferences are still ahead." She glanced around, then asked, "And where are your body gaurds?"_

"_Dismissed also," Ava replied quietly. "So, what do you want?"_

_Tarea hesitated, and when she spoke, it was as though she had to force the words out. "To apologize."_

_Ava started, eyebrows raised in obvious disbelief. Even Karan, watching from the sidelines, could not quite comprehend what his wife had said. Tarea did not apologize. Ever._

_Ava found her voice finally, and remarked, "I did not realize those words were in your vocabulary."_

_Tarea offered an icy smile in return, one that did little to change Ava's suspicious expression. "For calling you arrogant and empty-headed. Among other things."_

"_Why? Would you like us to be friends?" Ava questioned, shoving a few strands of dark hair back away from her eyes and giving Tarea a long, rather skeptical look._

"_No," Tarea answered. "I do not want to be friends with you." She paused, as though trying to gather her thoughts, and then said, "Friends you can pick and choose. Friends you can get rid of when you tire of them, or when they tire of you. My husband thinks of you as his family. You are practically his sister. And I know that we cannot choose our family members. I am, unfortunately, stuck with you. So I would like us to get along. For Karan's sake." Again, a pause, then, "Please."_

_Ava's dark eyebrows rose nearly into her hair line and she answered, "Yet another word I did not know you possessed." She continued to stare at Tarea for several moments, before saying with true wonder in her voice, "You really love him."_

"_I do," Tarea said simply._

_Ava gave a slow nod, "I think I can manage being civil to you."_

"_Good," Tarea answered, and she turned and walked briskly away._

They came out of the memory, shaking it off with effort. Liz looked at a loss for how to respond to what she had seen, and Kyle seemed suddenly awkwardly unsure if he should have shared it. Max, however, was able to push aside his own feelings long enough to ask the first question that lingered after the vision had faded.

"Did they ever become friends? Tarea and Ava?"

Kyle shook his head wordlessly. When he spoke, his words were quiet, as though almost unsure whether he should be revealing this much.

"No. Tarea eventually became very good friends with Vilandra. And then Zan. Even Rath warmed up to her quite a bit. And she tolerated Ava, and eventually Ansem and Rain, because they were practically family given their relationships with the people she loved. In the end, when the war was really… bad… Ava and Tarea would have done anything for each other. But they never became friends."

Max considered this for a moment, then nodded slowly. In some very odd way, it made sense. He did not know war, had not experienced it to the same extent as Kyle and the others actually from this time, but he knew enough to know that a common enemy can bring anyone together, even if they did not like each other before. And, likewise, that people would go to extraordinary lengths for the ones they loved.

The rest of his thoughts, however, were cut off by the sudden rush of pounding footsteps on the hallway, and two men came into view. They both looked to be in their mid-thirties, and they were panting as though they had run several yards without pause.

In alarm, Kyla demanded, "Chris, Toby, what's going on?"

Chris shoved blonde hair out of his eyes and said, "Michael wants to talk to you topside. Something's happened." He glanced at Max and Liz, his expression shifting to one of awe and disbelief before he managed to school it into blank features once more. "Both of you as well."

Kyle took off running, Max and Liz at his heels. As they ran, Max wondered about the two men's reaction to seeing him. He had not yet been introduced to the people in the Resistance Base, although Michael had said that Maria and Alex had told some of the others about his presence. It was obvious that whatever these two men knew, or thought they knew, about Max and Liz, it was impressive. How else could he explain the awe that he had seen reflected in Chris' eyes?

"What's topside?" Liz asked breathlessly.

Kyle glanced back at her as they sprinted around a corner and found themselves in the same large garage or hanger area that they had entered through when they had first arrived. "Outside," he answered. "In the real world. Outside of the Base."

They pushed through a set of steel doors that slammed shut behind them. Stepping out into the warm, moist air, Max squinted in the dim light, waiting for his eyes to adjust. After a moment, he saw Michael and Alex, speaking in hushed whispers, while a handful of others stood to the side and stared into the hazy distance, all looking distressed.

And then it occurred to Max that it was supposed to be mid-morning.

So why was it so dark?

"What's going on?" Kyle demanded, walking quickly to Michael.

Michael turned and pointed towards the horizon. "Something is kicking dust into the sky. Dust and smoke. It is coming from the East, and it has gotten so thick that it is literally dulling the light of the sun. And it is moving this way."

"Khivar," Kyle said, and it wasn't really a question.

Alex answered softly, "We don't know exactly what it is, or how far away it is. Or when it will get here. But if we assume Khivar is behind it, then it means we need to put our plan into action. Now. Or it will be too late."

"Max?" Liz murmured suddenly, "what was it Jim said about plagues?"

"I don't know. A… a plague on us? I think something like that. And then something about the ninth plague." Max said as Kyle, Alex, and Michael all turned to look at Liz. "Why?"

Liz bit her lip, then answered, "In the Bible, the Old Testament… God brings ten plagues on the Egyptians when Pharaoh refuses to let the Hebrew leave."

"Okay…" Kyle prompted.

"The ninth plague," Liz whispered, looking up at the dust-filled sky, "was darkness."


	11. Too Much, Too Soon

Title: When Times Collide

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Summary: When Max and Liz's daughter comes to the past, two times collide in a desperate race to save the future.

* * *

Chapter Eleven: Too Much, Too Soon

What started out as concern and confusion quickly turned into unbridled panic. Somehow, Liz had not expected things to move so quickly. She knew Michael had a plan, knew that they were all about to embark on the fiercest battle of their lives, but still… It was not until that moment, as the others around her began to discuss war plans and Michael turned his coldly calculating gaze towards the distant darkness that she finally realized…

This was war.

She'd known all along that war was bad. She'd known it on a logical and rational level. But to experience it emotionally…

That was something else entirely.

"Come on," Michael said abruptly, coming to her side. "We don't have much time."

So several minutes later, she found herself standing once again in another room, Max at her side and Kyle a few steps behind, Michael and Maria pacing back and forth in unison, and Alex sitting on a sofa, his expression contemplative. There were several others in the room that Liz did not recognize or who might have looked vaguely familiar.

"I understand your concern, Michael," a woman said, looking up with a frustrated gaze. "But if you don't tell us what exactly is going on…"

"The less people who know, the better," Michael retorted, giving the woman a frown. "We've already endangered the plan simply by letting people know that Liz is alive. If that information gets back to Khivar…" He trailed off with a pointed gaze for the others in the room.

"It is not a risk we are willing to take," Kyle supplied, unnecessarily finishing the sentence.

"So you don't trust us," a man said harshly, folding his arms over his chest and giving Michael a defiantly challenging glare. "Never mind that _your_ war has ruined _our_ lives. Never mind that we stood by you despite everything. You're still making decisions without consulting us. You still can't return the same amount of trust we put in you."

"This is not an issue of trust, Aaron," Alex interjected softly, offering a quiet sigh of resignation. It was enough to tell Liz that this conversation had happened before, possibly several times, and that the hybrids had quickly grown tired of it.

She gave Aaron a quizzical look. His dark eyes harbored a bitter resentment and his entire posture displayed his fury at the position they now found themselves in, but there was also a hint of fear glimmering in his expression. She supposed she could not blame him for that, she'd felt fear and just a little bit of anger when her life had been turned upside-down by this alien mess – and she'd actually been half-alien herself.

"Then what is the problem?" Aaron sneered. "If it is not a matter of trust, then what is the problem?"

"Our entire plan for the future rests on this," Michael snapped angrily. "Are you really that thick that you can't understand why we would want to keep this plan under wraps?"

"Are you really that thick that you don't understand why I have a problem with this? How can you demand our trust when you won't give us yours?"

The tension lingered in the air all around them, suffocating in its intensity.

The tension was broken by the door to the room being flung open and Ava and Zan striding in, both looking distraught and frustrated.

"What is going on?" Ava demanded hoarsely. "What happened outside? Why are you holding a war council?"

"Well," Aaron sneered before Michael could answer, "at least we aren't the only ones being left out of the group. I take it you didn't tell your precious Ava about any of this either?"

"Any of what?" Ava asked suspiciously while Zan moved closer to her, his presence an obvious indication of his support for her.

"Ava, now is not the time," Michael said firmly, trying his best to look sympathetic and stern at the same time.

Liz couldn't help but smile as Ava threw back her head, hair flying, and drew herself up to her full height. "If it effects us, Uncle Michael, then when would be a better time than right now?" she demanded.

"Ava, this is not…" Maria stopped midsentence and shook her head, glancing around the room with an uncertain gaze. "This isn't a good time for this discussion," she said, echoing Michael's words. "Khivar is making a move, and we have to fight back. We're running out of time."

"Tell me what I can do to help," Ava answered without hesitation.

"We both want to help," Zan added softly.

Liz gave Ava a long look as she tried to sort out her own complicated feelings about the situation. She could certainly sympathize with Ava's desire not to be left in the dark, particularly given that this war had to do with her people and her planet. But on the other hand, she was only fourteen, and Liz could not help but feel the overwhelming desire to protect her daughter at all costs.

"Dissention in the ranks?" Aaron cut in with a smirk.

"Aaron, shut up," another man said, giving Michael a wary look. "Just back off, okay? They're obviously trying to save us all, and you're only making this worse."

A woman spoke up, "I don't know, I think Aaron has a point. We're stronger together than we are apart."

"We aren't asking you to leave the Resistance Base," Kyle hissed at her. "We aren't dividing ourselves. We just want to be careful. We're trying to save the world." He walked forward, stepping into the center of the room to confront the woman, "Don't you want that, Christy?"

Christy lifted an eyebrow, green eyes narrowed. "Don't twist my words, Kyle."

"Both of you, stop it," another woman said, and Liz thought that the woman might have been familiar. Perhaps someone she had seen talking to Michael or Maria at some point during the past two days?

"Serena…" Kyle started, turning towards her.

"No, seriously, you both need to shut up," Serena continued, lifting her voice to be heard throughout the room. "Yes, I agree that we do need to talk about this. But we need to do it civilly, and as a team. There is not a single person in this room who is not fully committed to stopping Khivar, otherwise they would not be here. So let's take a moment to remember that we are all on the same side, alright?"

Aaron and Christy both lapsed into reluctant silence, and even Kyle looked slightly abashed. Ava and Zan, on the other hand, still looked determined and defiant.

"Dad, you can't keep us out of this," Zan said. "Particularly since Khivar has been trying to kill Ava since day one. She's the one in the most danger. He'll do anything at all to stop her and you still want to keep us in the dark?"

"Wait, _what_?" Max asked, turning to Michael with an accusatory gaze. "You never told us that."

Michael looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I told you that Khivar was after Ava."

"Yes," Liz said dryly, sarcastically. "I guess you just neglected to give us the full details. What exactly does Zan mean when he says Khivar will do anything to get Ava? That she's the one in the most danger?" She was getting angrier by the second, furious that something this important would have been kept a secret from them. Her gaze slid to Maria, but her best friend would not meet her eyes.

"I didn't lie to upset you," Michael said through clenched teeth. "But it wasn't… I didn't want to burden you with it. There's nothing you can do anyway."

"Enough," Alex interjected. "Did you three not hear Serena just a moment ago? We need to focus on the plan."

"Easier for you to say," Max muttered under his breath. "It isn't your daughter that Khivar is targeting."

"Lizzie," Maria murmured, "trust that we would never keep something like this from you without the best of intentions. We are doing everything possible to protect Ava. You have to believe me about that."

Liz felt her anger fade slightly at Maria's words. She knew Maria, and while she might have felt so overwhelmed by the rest of the situation, she had always known that she could count on her best friend to have her back in everything. Particularly something as important as her daughter's safety.

She gave Maria a short nod, and the pixie blonde smiled.

"I agree with Michael, Ava," Max said. "We need to put this plan into action, and we need to do it now. But you can't fight with us. It's too dangerous."

"You don't know that!" Ava protested. "You've seen what I can do, you know I could be helpful!"

"I know you could," Max agreed. "But I can't take the risk of you getting hurt."

"But you're willing to risk my parents, Uncle Kyle, Uncle Alex, and Aunt Liz?" Zan asked disbelievingly.

"They're not my daughter," Max answered honestly. "I don't have the ability to tell them they can't fight."

"You're sending my parents to a battle with Khivar. They could… they could get hurt or worse and I…" Ava stopped, blinked and wiped the tears away from her eyes. "I don't want to be in the dark."

"How about this," Alex suggested, offering a possibility to everyone in the room, "we will briefly outline the plan without any specific details? That way you know what is happening, but there is no chance that Khivar could somehow get his hands on information we want to keep quiet."

There was a grumble of assent from everyone in the room, and Ava and Zan both gave reluctant nods, knowing that they wouldn't get a better offer than that.

"We have an idea of where Khivar's main base is," Michael began, giving Alex a nod as he spoke. "He hasn't exactly been quiet about it, has he?" There was a brief snort of laughter from Aaron, and several grins that passed around the room. "His army is marching on us right now. It looks as though he knows where we are. I don't know how he figured it out, I don't know what he is after. But while he is here, we're going to make a move on him at his base."

"Do you think he is still at his base? He hasn't joined the army?" Serena questioned.

Michael and Maria exchanged a brief look, and it was Alex who answered, "We don't think so. He didn't join the attack at Santa Fe."

"Yeah… I don't get why he didn't," another man said.

"He knows Max is here," Kyle answered. "I think… we think… he isn't going to take the chance of facing Max unless he has no other choice. So he'll sit back in his throne behind his security guards and barbed-wire topped walls while his army tears apart out lands… but he won't expect Max to go to him."

"You knew he was going to attack," Serena said in a hushed whisper. "You were waiting for it."

"He knows Max is here," Michael repeated. "He certainly isn't going to sit back and do nothing. Also…" He glanced at Ava, and the others in the room followed his gaze.

"With Max here, Ava becomes even more of a target. If he can't get Max, he'll at least try for her," Maria said regretfully. Ava inhaled sharply, and Zan moved closer to the wide-eyed girl while Max and Liz both flinched at the bluntness of the words.

"Which is why we need to get to him first," Alex said swiftly, trying to ease the fear that had suddenly filled through room.

"And this plan… it involves Max going to Khivar?"

"It involves Liz going as well… but Khivar not knowing that Liz has gone," Kyle explained. "In the meantime, we need you to lead the attack against Khivar's army. He will know that we're up to something if we don't meet his army in battle. So take all the fighters you can and fight. We have to engage them, and meanwhile Max and Liz will take care of Khivar…"

Liz bit her lip and lowered her gaze. She had agreed to the plan, but so much of it rested on her shoulders, on her being able to pull off a trick that she was not entirely sure she could accomplish. Michael and Maria both promised her that she could do it, but…

She hadn't been here more than two days. She understood the rush, understood that every second they did _not_ fight, Khivar came a step closer to defeating them. They didn't have time for her to sit back and relax, to think things through until she could find her courage. It was now or never…

But she couldn't keep the doubt at bay, and it twisted sharply in her stomach, remaindering her that the entire world was resting on this. On _her_.

* * *

_  
_

"I want to go with them," Ava said as she paced the room angrily.

Zan sat on the edge of his seat, his gaze torn between the irate teenager and the computer screen on the desk before him. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a shaky breath.

"I don't know, Ava…"

"You don't actually agree with them?" Ava demanded, surprised and bewildered at his lack of support. He was usually the one getting into arguments with his parents, and she was the one trying to calm him down, trying to talk him into being more understanding. To have the tables turned was rather odd, and left her distinctly uncomfortable.

Zan pushed the computer away and turned to face her completely. "Not exactly. But… Ava, you are in danger. I don't want you to get hurt."

He looked so sheepishly regretful when he said the words, as though aware that he was probably letting her down, but she couldn't be angry with him. He was blushing at the admission, and she shook her head and looked away, chewing her bottom lip.

"Your mother does that," Zan said quietly. Ava started and gave him a questioning look, and he elaborated, "She bites her lip when she's nervous or thinking."

Ava smiled. But her expression fell and after a moment, she said, "If something happens to my parents… I don't want to… to face the possibility that they might…" She stopped her pacing and leaned against the wall, closing her eyes. With a choked laugh, she said, "It shouldn't be so hard to lose them. I mean… I lost them once, right? I've got practice, so if they die… it shouldn't be hard… I shouldn't be this worried… shouldn't be this weak."

She trailed off, and opened her eyes a moment later to find Zan standing in front of her. "Ava…" He pulled her into a hug, and she rested her head against his chest. "You aren't weak."

"Feels like it," she replied, her words muffled by his body.

"Hey…" he pulled back and waited until she had lifted her head and met his stern gaze, "you are the strongest, bravest, most courageous person I know. Khivar wants you dead, and he's managed to kidnap you once already. But you still survived, and you keep fighting. You are not weak."

Ava smiled faintly. "Thanks, Zan. I love you."

It had slipped out without her really thinking through the words, and Zan stiffened, surprise flickering quickly through his face. For a moment, shutters fell over his eyes, blocking off his expression, but then he smiled warmly.

"I love you, too," he said.

A few minutes later, after Zan had assured her once again that she was not weak and that everything would be fine, after he had made her promise not to do anything stupid, Ava found herself standing alone in the hallway, watching as her parents filed from a meeting room and headed towards the garage.

She couldn't go with her parents, she knew that. They would never let her, and if her presence was a distraction, if she in any way hindered their ability to defeat Khivar, if she put them in danger, she would never forgive herself.

But she was the daughter of royalty. She was a target, she was part of the reason that Khivar was still waging war on them, still furiously trying to find the royals and kill everyone and everything in his path. She had gone to the past to find her parents, she had brought them here. She wasn't used to standing on the sidelines, and she simply could not sit back and do nothing while her entire family faced danger.

She couldn't go with them, either.

But maybe if she couldn't help her parents in the fight, she could still help someone else…

_

* * *

_

When Zan came barging into the room, sputtering something incoherent, the first thought that rushed through Skylar's mind was that everyone was dead. The next thought was that if everyone was dead, he would feel it, and so he dismissed the worry. Still, Zan was babbling in a panic-stricken way about something, and that made Skylar uneasy.

"Zan?" Vilandra said in her trademark come-on-and-confide-in-me voice, "try to take a few deep breaths and slow down. Skylar and I can't understand you when you are talking that quickly."

Zan complied, and after a moment of silence in which he struggled to form coherent words, he gasped out, "Ava's gone!"

Skylar froze, his hear hammering painfully in his chest, and Vilandra went pale.

"What do you mean?" Skylar demanded, reminding himself, yet again, that if anything had happened to Ava, he would have felt it. She was his family, and he always knew when his family was in danger.

"She left. She went after the others… the ones fighting Khivar's army."

"They let her go?" Skylar demanded angrily. How many times had he been kept out of a fight, and now they let a _fourteen-year-old_ go battle an entire army?

But Zan said quickly, "No, no they didn't. They didn't at all. She snuck out, followed them. Took one of the cars…" He trailed off with a helpless shrug. "She's out there, fighting." He looked from Skylar to Vilandra, and then back. "We have to go after her!"

A complete silence met his words, and then Vilandra ventured hesitantly, "Your plan to bring Ava safely back to us is to make matters worse by sending all four of us out there? Zan, we'll only be a distraction…"

"No, he's right," Skylar said, cutting through Vilandra's protests. "We need to go after Ava. The others don't know she's out there, we're the only ones who can safely bring her back."

Vilandra rolled her eyes and said irritably, "You don't believe that. You just want to join the battle."

"Don't you?" Skylar retorted harshly.

Vilandra lowered her eyes, and Skylar felt instant guilt for his words. Although Vilandra was just as stubbornly brave as the other three, although she was just as determined to be a part of this war, she was not a natural fighter. She'd inherited that reluctance from her father, and did much better at behind-the-scenes work. It wasn't cowardice that kept her off the battlefield, it was plain sense. She went where she could do the most good.

"I'm sorry…" Skylar muttered. "I didn't mean…"

"Don't worry about it," Vilandra said with an idle wave of her hand, although her eyes still reflected some hurt. With a wary glance for Zan, she said, "Do you really think Ava is in danger? I mean, the kind of danger that only we can help her with?"

Zan hesitated, actually considering the question. Vilandra didn't want a quick answer, she wanted his true opinion, and she would base her reaction on it. So he would put as much effort into understanding his instincts as possible.

Skylar watched silently, waiting.

Finally, Zan let out a breath. "Yes," he said. "I can't explain it, but I have this feeling in my gut… we _have_ to go after her. She's going to need us."

Vilandra shrugged. "Okay," she said softly, giving her assent. "Then let's go."

It felt like hours of getting prepared, although Skylar knew it hadn't taken them more than a few minutes. But if Zan was this convinced that Ava was in danger… Well, Vilandra had been right, he did want to join the battle. He did want to prove that he could do this, he could fight. He was an adult. But that desire faded under the flaring of fear for Ava's life. She was more important to him than this battle.

They would find Ava and bring her back. That was all. He could fight some other time.

Vilandra had opted to drive, which was probably for the best. Zan was too panicked to successfully steer any vehicle, and Skylar was known for his reckless driving which would most likely just get them in an accident.

Skylar leaned his head against the window and stared out at the darkness. He had no idea what Khivar was doing, how his army had managed to raise enough dust and dirt to practically block out the sun. It was an impressive display of power, meant to intimidate more than anything else.

And it was working. Skylar was nervous.

"Who is leading the battle?" Vilandra asked as the vehicle bounded over the dirt road.

Zan leaned forward from the backseat. "Serena and Kal were serving as Generals. I think Aaron was leading under Kal and Voj under Serena."

As a general rule, an alien always had to be a member of the leading teams in order to provide better protection for the other fighters. Voj was a good man and a powerful alien, and although he fervently disliked Kal, Skylar knew that the shape-shifter was dedicated to the cause and a strong fighter. He felt just a little bit better knowing that they were there.

"And Uncle Michael is taking Uncle Max and Aunt Liz to Khivar?" Vilandra murmured.

Skylar shook his head as he chanced a glance over her, but her eyes were on the road and he could not read her expression.

He trusted Michael implicitly, but the idea that Max and Liz were going to fight Khivar… it seemed almost laughable. Where would they find the strength? Despite their appearances, they were still so very young. Younger than him, really.

Even as he was dwelling on these less-than-charitable thoughts, Vilandra brought the car around a twist in the road, and they lurched into chaos.

Everything around them was black. The occasional burst of light illuminating the shadowy cliffs of the desert broke through the darkness, but did little to add explanation to the strange scene. All around them, the air was thick with heavy smog and smoke and dust, and filled with the pounding reverberations of fighting.

As his eyes adjusted, Skylar could just barely make out the shapes of people moving, clashing weapons in a furious battle.

The air sizzled, and Vilandra slammed on the breaks, bringing the car to a screeching halt. Zan didn't even wait for her to completely stop, but instead threw off his seatbelt and scrambled from the vehicle. Skylar quickly followed suit, eager to keep the reckless teenager from getting into trouble, and just as eager to find Ava before she got hurt.

But the moment he stepped out of the car, the smoke hit his eyes, causing them to burn. He wiped at them with one hand as they watered, tears leaking down his face as his body attempted to protect itself from the pollution in the air.

He squinted up at the sky, but couldn't see the sun.

"What is this?" Vilandra asked, coming to his side. She was choking as she tried to speak, her lungs rebelling.

Through the gloom, Skylar could see the skins. They were wearing goggles and masks to protect themselves.

"An advantage," Skylar replied, forcing himself to talk despite the feeling of cotton slipping into this throat and lining his windpipe. "Khivar's troops are protected against it, but we're not."

"It's spreading," Zan pointed towards the horizon. There was a faint line of light and blue sky in the distance where the smog had not yet reached, but the line was rapidly diminishing, growing thinner as Khivar's poison seeped further and further into the expanse of sky.

"Is he trying to kill everyone and everything? That's insanity!" Vilandra demanded before nearly doubling over coughing.

Skylar reached down and pulled her upright, offering her some support. With a grim shrug, he said, "It's Khivar. Of course he's insane."

"It won't last," Vilandra said, relief evident in her voice. Skylar and Zan both turned to her with questioning looks, and Vilandra elaborated, "It's degrading in the air. You can tell that from the light-refraction index. Whatever is in this smog, it can't be around oxygen for too long. It's just temporary, just for this battle. It will fade."

Skylar nodded, accepting Vilandra's words without question. It wasn't even worth it to ask how she knew things like this, she just did. And if she could look at the smog and somehow use the way the light refracted through it as a means of determining its physical properties, Skylar wasn't going to argue with her.

Still, he couldn't help but smirk, "You spend way too much time around Uncle Alex."

"He is my father," Vilandra retorted.

"Yeah, I can tell," Skylar quipped.

"We need to find Ava," Zan said.

So the friendly banter was lost, and instead the three friends pushed into the battle. Skylar was almost immediately engaged in battle. He conjured a ball of fire in his hands, flinging it at the nearest skin and incinerating him. A moment later something hit him in the back, and the fell to his knees. Rolling over to his side, he looked up in time to see Vilandra letting a burst of ice crystals fly from her outstretched palm and slammed into several skins standing around them.

There was an explosion, and the cliffs above them shook, rocks cascading down the sloping incline towards them. Vilandra grabbed Skylar by the arm and yanked him upright, pulling him backwards. They both tripped and fell, separating as they slid out of the way of the avalanche of rocks.

It was chaos. Skylar scrambled back to his feet and did his best squint through the battle, trying to locate Ava. Vilandra fought to his side, her hair flying about and sticking to her sweat-covered face.

"We lost Zan!" Vilandra yelled into his ear. "Do you see Ava anywhere?"

Skylar lifted his hand again and a flickering of flame illuminated the area around them. There were too many people, too many moving bodies slamming against each other, clashing fists and firing burst of energy, bullets tearing through the air. The space around them hummed with adrenaline and smelled like spilled blood.

A shadow fell over the light, and Skylar turned sharply to see Aaron standing behind him.

"What are you…" the older man started as the grip on his gun faltered slightly, shock illuminating his features.

Skylar cut him off. "Ava's here. Somewhere. Have you seen her?"

"I…" Aaron trailed off as he suddenly shoved Skylar backwards and out of the way of a burst of energy. He threw himself to the ground as well, spinning around easily and firing three shots at the enemy alien. The alien fell, his body dissolving into dust and flakes of skin.

"Thanks," Skylar muttered.

Aaron shrugged. "Don't mention it. But no, I haven't seen Ava. You sure she's here?" he asked, raising his voice to be heard over the battle.

"Yeah, she's here," Vilandra shouted, though he answer was nearly drowned out by a sudden horrified scream of someone dying. In the dark, Skylar couldn't tell who it was, but the sound chilled him all the same.

How many people would die today?

"What about Zan?" Skylar yelled. "Have you seen him?"

"Yes," Aaron replied, gesturing to his left. "He went that way. I think he was looking for someone."

"Come on," Skylar said to Vilandra, and the two of them pushed further into the fight, Aaron's words of warning following them.

"Be careful, you two!"

It seemed to take forever, and time slowed down as people moved all around them. Skylar linked his fingers tightly around Vilandra's wrist, refusing to let her be pulled away from him. People pushed up against them, and the air crackled with electricity and energy while the smog and smoke continued to block the sun from view.

Then…

"There! I see them," Vilandra cried, and sure enough Skylar could just make out Zan and Ava standing side-by-side in the gloom, surrounded by skins.

Skylar did not hesitate. With all the energy he could must, he let a burst of fire flood from his fingers, careening through the air and smashing into the circle of skins. It took all his effort to control the fire, to keep it away from Zan and Ava, and just when he thought he might lose control over it, the fire faded as Vilandra turned it all to ice.

The two of them rushed to Zan and Ava.

"Are you out of your mind?" Skylar hissed at the younger girl.

Ava glared at him defiantly. "You would have done exactly the same thing!"

"But I didn't, did I?" Skylar snapped in response.

"Shut up for a moment," Zan interrupted. "We can argue later. Right now, we need to get out of here. Get back to the base."

Ava looked up to protest, but a cold voice floated towards them, interrupting the conversation.

"You came."

Ava froze, turning towards the voice. Zan and Vilandra quickly moved to her side, and Skylar stood behind her, all four coming together to face the new enemy.

"Khivar said you would," the voice continued, and a woman stepped out of the smog. She stared down at Ava with a faint smile on her lips. "He knows you well, I see."

"Who… who are you?" Ava gasped, because she could not believe what she was seeing.

The woman continued smirking, her inhuman eyes filled with laughter and triumph. "I don't know why you are so important to my dear love, but he does want you. And I promised I would get you for him." Her tone hardened, her expression turning cold and icy, "So I suggest you save yourself the trouble of a pointless fight and just come willingly. You can't win against me."

Skylar felt numb. There was no possible way that this was happening, that any of what he was seeing could actually be true. This was a shape-shifter or something like that…

And yet…

He knew it wasn't. He knew, because he could feel it. He could sense the ties that linked this woman to his family, and no matter how many times he tried to tell himself that it was all a mirage, or his imagination, or some twisted plot of Khviar's to throw them off balance…

This was real.

She was real.

Everything from the long hair to the stunning smile, from the dark-liquid eyes to the statuesque figure…

He knew this woman. He had seen her in photographs and flashes, heard about her in grief-filled words and amusing recollections. He had heard tales of her life, of her personality, of her fire and determination. Epic poems of love and happiness… and he'd heard stories about how she'd been snatched away from them, cast into the depths of death, far beyond their reach.

But _that_ story, apparently, was a lie.

How was she here? Why was she here? Why did she refer to Khivar as her love, why did she seem not to know who they were? Why was she so intent on capturing Ava? Why was she threatening them?

What the hell had happened all those years ago?

While the hundreds of confusing and bewildering thoughts crashed against each other in Skylar's head, it was Vilandra who found her voice and was able to utter the one word that encompassed everything else, all other questions.

She stepped forward, eyes wide.

"_Mom_?"


	12. All the King's Men

Title: When Times Collide

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Summary: When Max and Liz's daughter arrives in the past, two times collide in a desperate race to save the future.

* * *

Chapter Twelve: All the King's Men

All she could feel was horror.

It washed over her in great waves, leaving her numb to all other emotions. It flooded her veins, constricted around her heart, force the air from her lungs. It burned with the tears in her eyes and coated her throat, making it difficult to speak.

The fighting continued to rage around her, and the air was filled with the poisonous smoke. It was fading slowly, leaving everything cleaner, clearer, and she would have been able to see the bodies strewn across the blood-streaked ground had she been looking towards the battle.

But she was not looking, she was not paying any attention. She did not hear the clashing of metal, the explosions of energy punctuated by the sharp cracks of gunshots. She did not hear the cries, the choked, guttural sounds of death and pain, nor did she hear the screams of warning, the shouts of tense orders, the wails of fear. She heard and saw nothing except…

"_Mom?"_

It could not be true. It was impossible. There was simply no way that this woman standing before her was her mother.

And yet…

And yet Vilandra knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this _was_ Isabel. She could feel it, feel the common bonds that tied them together, the shared blood that connected her to her past.

Isabel, for her part, looked confused by Vilandra's words, and she turned her gaze to the young woman with one eyebrow raised. "What did you call me?" she asked fiercely, coldly. There was nothing human in her eyes, nothing warm and caring. No sign of recognition. She stared hard at Vilandra, her gaze icy and calculating, her lips still twisted upwards into the same triumphant smirk.

"Aunt Isabel," Ava whispered, finding her voice even as Vilandra went mute. "How are you…?"

Isabel frowned at Ava. "What did _you_ call me?" she repeated. "Isabel? More lies, like dear Zan and Rath? So eager to convince me that I am someone else, someone different. I know who I am, child, and I know what I am here to do. Come…" She reached out a hand towards Ava, "my husband wants you. Come now, and I won't have to hurt you."

Vilandra continued to gape as the words _my husband_ echoed in her mind. How many tears had she shed over her mother's death? How many nights had she lay awake, wishing that she had a mother to read her bedtime stories and reassure her that the monsters under her bed weren't real and couldn't hurt her? How long had it been since she had been able to utter her mother's name without a darkness passing over the face of her father?

Her hands twisted into fists as her mind wandered to darker thoughts. All this time, they had told her that Khivar had married a powerful representative from a different planet. A diplomat, she had assumed, or a nobility of some kind. And yet, all this time…

All this time, Khivar's wife had been her _mother_.

The humans would not have known better, she reasoned. After all, her mother had supposedly died long before this battle became as widely and publically understand, back when it was still myths and legends and rumors whispered in the dark. And the aliens, the ones who remembered the past, who remember Antar and all that had happened, they would not necessarily have been able to recognize Isabel, given that she was half-human. So… it made sense that the rest of the world would not yet have realized who she was and just how she was related to Max.

But Max himself? Alex? They had to have known. It was simply inconceivable that they could have looked at Isabel and not known who she was, not recognized her.

They had to have known that Isabel was alive… and they lied about it.

The rush of horror was slowly fading, and Vilandra felt the flaring of other emotions in her chest. Anger, outrage, betrayal… they were all fresh and painful, so raw and new.

But Isabel seemed completely oblivious to her daughter's internal agony, and was instead focused entirely on Ava. The word that had been uttered – _Mom_ – still lingered in the air, but she did not pay it any attention. Her task was to find and capture the young girl, and that was all that mattered.

Skylar, though, had different ideas. As Isabel advanced on Ava, he raised his hand and conjured a burst of fire. The flames hovered over the palm of his hand, dancing back and forth across his fingertips, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. "Get away from her," he snarled, taking a few steps towards Isabel.

"Skylar! What are you doing?" Vilandra demanded, turning towards him with an aghast expression. "You can't attack her!"

But in the moment that Skylar paused, in the brief second that he looked over at Vilandra, Isabel whipped around and attacked him. The blast caught him in the back, sending him sprawling across the ground, tumbling over until he came to a sickening stop at Vilandra's feet. He groaned once and his eyelids flickered with pain, but he slowly pushed himself to his knees and glared at Isabel.

Vilandra continued to gape. She could not even begin to fathom what had happened, that her mother had so brutally and viciously attacked Skylar. But the air was filled with the scent of burnt skin and blood.

And just as quickly as the attack had come, Isabel turned away, looking back towards Ava. She hesitated, and something passed through her eyes, a glimmer of emotion, as though something about the situation did not sit well with her, and she couldn't quite figure out what it was.

"I don't want to hurt you," Isabel said softly, taking another step towards Ava. "Just come, and you can spare yourself and your friends all this pain."

Zan moved towards Ava, anger flashing in his cold gaze.

"Don't hurt her," Vilandra begged, and she had no idea whether it was Ava or her mother she was trying to spare.

Zan snapped, "Get away from Ava," and raised his hands in warning.

Isabel laughed, her voice nearly glacial as she replied, "And how are you going to stop me?" Then, as though something else had occurred to her, she looked back at Ava and said with a puzzled frown, "So your name is Ava also? And tell me, do you know my brother's wife?"

"Max and Liz are my parents," Ava retorted.

Isabel blinked, and asked, "And who are Max and Liz?" Then she shook her head and sighed, "Never mind. None of this matters. Come with me now… Ava… before I am forced to kill your friends."

Skylar struggled back to his feet, his breath coming in sharp gasps as he snarled, "The hell she is going anywhere with you!" Fire burst again from his hand, and this time Vilandra did not cry out in time, was unable to stop the attack that sprung through the air and slammed forcefully towards her mother. Isabel just barely managed to leap aside in time, and the fire passed by her, hitting the ground and spreading into a blaze.

The air was filled with heat.

"Skylar!" Vilandra cried, the word choked in her throat as smoke spewed into the air around her. "You can't…"

"Can't what?" Skylar hissed, this time not taking his gaze away from the hybrid Princess. "Can't fight the enemy?"

"She's not the enemy. She's my _mother_."

"Why do you keep saying that?" Isabel asked sharply, angrily. "Is this some plot organized by my darling brother and Rath? Trying to convince me that I'm someone else, someone I'm not? I've told them already, it won't work. I know who I am."

"Mom… Mom, _please_…" Vilandra begged, stepping to Skylar's side, facing her mother. Slowly, the numb horror was draining from her body, leaving her dimly aware of the battle all around her. She could hear the noises now, and feel the beginnings of panic that welled in her chest. How many had died? How much longer would the battle rage, how many more would die?

Isabel raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, lips quirking into a smirk. "I have no daughter," she said simply, bluntly, "and if you think pretending to be here will somehow save your friend…" She laughed again, coldly, bitterly.

Vilandra winced at the words, but refused to look away from those unfathomable eyes. How had this happened, she wondered, and how could it be stopped? What had turned her mother into this person so unrecognizable to her?

And why had she not been told?

Ava hurried towards Skylar suddenly, stepping around Isabel and darting past her. She reached Skylar before Isabel could stop her, and placed her hand on Skylar's back. A pale glow spread out from her fingers, and beneath her palm, Skylar's broken skin began to knit together, and the burns slowly healed.

"A healer," Isabel murmured. "Interesting. That's a rare talent, child. I can see why my husband is so intrigued by you."

"I won't go with you," Ava said firmly, as Skylar and Vilandra both moved closer towards her, protectively offering their support.

But Isabel shook her head in amusement and turned her cool gaze from Ava, letting it slide over the other two before landing on Zan.

Too late, Vilandra knew what would happen, and as she opened her mouth to cry out a warning, she knew she would never be in time to prevent the inevitable. It took only a moment, and then Isabel had knocked Zan to the ground and knelt at his side, her hand pressed firmly against his throat.

"Don't make me do this," she said. "I don't want to kill him."

And she didn't want to hurt him. It took Vilandra a moment to realize that her mother was telling the truth, but then it became clear in a flash of blinding revelation. Isabel could have easily killed Skylar with the attack, and yet she hadn't. She could have harmed all of them, and yet she was waiting, refusing to attack any more than necessary, giving Ava an opportunity to come with her peacefully. She was holding back, waiting.

"Let him go," Ava whispered, taking a step forward, away from Skylar and Vilandra.

"Ava, _don't_," Zan said emphatically, his gaze flickering back and forth between the other three and Isabel. He stared hard at her hand, at her fingers pressed so close to his throat, and swallowed apprehensively. The fear was obvious in his eyes, but so was the determination.

He did not want Ava to get hurt.

Ava shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes. "Please… I'll go with you. I promise. Just… let him go. Don't hurt him."

"Ava, stop this! What are you doing?" Zan practically screeched. "You can't go with her. She'll take you to Khivar! You know what will happen…"

Vilandra's heart was beating so rapidly that she could barely hear anything above the noise, the steady thud on her ribcage. Yes, Ava knew what would happen if she went back to Khivar. They all knew, because Khivar had kidnapped her once. She couldn't let that happen again, couldn't let Ava be taken back to their enemy, not by Isabel.

Her _mother_.

But how could she just stand there and let Zan die?

"Let him go," Ava said again.

Isabel pulled Zan to his feet and threw him towards Skylar. He crashed heavily into the other boy, unable to regain his balance, and the two sprawled backwards. Vilandra rushed to them, kneeling to help Zan back to his feet and assure herself that he was okay.

When she looked back, Isabel had her fingers wrapped tightly around Ava's wrist. Ava's face was streaked with tears, and her skin was pale, almost entirely devoid of color. Her lips were trembling, her eyes wide with fear even though she was doing her very best to look brave.

"There," Isabel sneered. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Then she faded back into the battle, disappearing from sight, and taking Ava with her.

* * *

_  
_

Liz's first thought upon seeing Khivar's base was that the skin king had amazing taste in architecture and design. It looked almost like a palace, but with modern, blunt edges and heavy lines that curved slightly in all the most unusual places. It was avant-garde, and yet somehow elegant.

Fit for a king.

It was sunset by the time they reached their intended location, and the sky was filled with the red and orange of the sinking sun, a fiery explosion of color streaked against the pale blue and white.

"So… our plan is just to walk in there and hope no one notices?" Max asked, a little unsure.

"Yeah, something like that," Michael answered with a grin. Max gave him a skeptical look, clearly conveying what he thought of the plan, but Michael just shook his head and added, "Getting in won't be that difficult. It's getting out that you need to worry about."

"Is that supposed to reassure me?" Max asked sarcastically, and Michael rolled his eyes.

"Ready?" Alex asked cautiously as he watched the others move through the underbrush towards the barbed-wire fences that surrounded the base.

No, Liz thought to herself, she wasn't ready. She wasn't ready at all. And her own apprehension was so clearly reflected in Max's eyes that she wondered why Alex had even bothered to ask. Wasn't it obvious? They were nowhere near ready for this battle, and yet what other choice did they have?

"Maria," Michael instructed, taking his eyes off of Max for a moment and glancing at his wife, "how many?"

Maria closed her eyes and concentrated, wrinkles forming along her forehead. Liz's first thought was that it looked as though Maria was mind-warping, but she dismissed that immediately, knowing it wasn't possible.

"_Maria can use her empathy to sense how many guards there are," Alex had said while explaining the plan. "Once we know that, getting in will be easy."_

Maria opened her eyes, looking a little concerned. "More than we had anticipated," she whispered to Michael. "At least five at the main entrance, three others near the side gate to our left. And that's only at the outer level."

"Khivar is no fool," Kyle said simply, bitterly. "He knows not to leave himself unguarded, not in these uncertain circumstances." He looked over at Michael and added, "But it doesn't really change anything. Does it?"

"No," Michael agreed. He looked back at the fence surrounding the base. "Kyle… get us in."

And Kyle strode forward determinedly, his concentration focused entirely on the fence before them. He held his hands out in front of him, and they began to glow and eerie green. After a moment, the fence twisted, ripples running through it, before the entire thing exploded into tiny fragments, little more than shards of stone and twisted metal.

Alex flicked his wrists at the explosion, and it froze midair, the broken pieces suspended before them.

"Let's go," Michael said calmly, and Liz followed the others through the opening in the fence, careful to avoid the fragments hanging around them. Then fence itself looked so ordinary, so plain, like the type of fence that would ordinarily surround a playground or a school yard.

But she knew it was so much more than that.

"_The important thing is not to let yourself be deceived by appearances," Maria had cautioned. "Khivar will have certainly infused everything with his own alien technology. It will be so much more dangerous than you think."_

She glanced at the fence as they walked through it, and heard Kyle whispering to Michael.

"There was some kind of energy in the fence. I don't know what it was, but as soon as Alex's freeze wears off, I think it will probably explode. Decimate the entire area."

Michael grimaced and glanced behind him uneasily, then replied in a low tone, "So let's make sure not to be here when that happens." In a louder tone, he ordered, "Come on. We need to move faster."

Liz chewed her bottom lip and followed Michael, watching the way he kept glancing over at Max. Kyle and Alex, too, often exchanged brief looks with each other before casting slanting gazes at the hybrid king. She couldn't help but wonder what they were thinking, and if they were worried. She wished she had been better able to read their expressions in the past, wished she knew them better now, in this time. But she didn't know them, not anymore, not well enough to interpret the expressions that passed through their eyes.

Maria quickened her pace so that she was walking level with Liz. Placing a hand on the brunette's arm, she said, "Are you alright?"

Liz nodded uncomfortably. "Yeah, I guess…"

The land between the fence and the building itself was dotted with trees, shrubs, and flowers, like a strange, exotic garden. The paths were made of dirt and the occasional scattered pebbles, and grass poked through along the edges. In the pale light of the sinking sun, it was beautiful.

And it seemed so very out of place.

But looking around, Liz felt her heart clench tightly. Because she could see signs of Isabel here, in the way the trees were planted, in the colors of the flowers. She wondered to herself if the statuesque hybrid came into these gardens often, to sit underneath the trees or wander through the paths, to stop and smell the flowers.

"_Don't let the beauty of the place surprise you," Kyle had grumbled. "It's still dangerous. And evil."_

They passed through the garden and paused at a side door. Again, Kyle walked forward, and again, his hands glowed with a brilliant light. This time, however, instead of the entire door exploding, only the handle seemed to move, twisting slightly with small vibrations.

"Okay," Kyle said.

"That's it?" Max asked, surprised. "That's all you have to do to open a lock?"

"I blew up the inner trap, releasing the hinge on the lock mechanism," Kyle said with a shrug. He glanced behind him, squinting through the dim light at the distant fence, a worried expression momentarily filling his eyes. "It's going to explode soon," he murmured to Michael.

Michael stepped forward and grabbed the door handle, yanking it towards him. The door swung open, revealing a dark passage, and Alex was the first to walk through, into Khivar's home.

There was the sound of footsteps to their left, and again directly in front of them. Maria licked her lips and said, "Now, Alex."

The normally quiet man nodded and snapped back hands up in front of him.

The footsteps stopped.

"_I'll freeze the guards. We want to keep the death toll to a minimum, at least getting in. Khivar will sense it if we start killing all his guards, and we want to avoid being spotted for as long as possible," Alex had told Liz as they prepared to leave the Resistance Base._

The others walked further into the hallway, and Liz shivered at the feeling of isolation that fell over her.

The anxiety was back, this time in full force. It would not leave her alone, would not go away no matter how many times she tried her best to fight it off. They were expecting her to pull off a miracle, to manage some feat she could not even fathom, and even though Maria and Alex had both assured her she could do it…

She _was_ afraid.

All those thoughts were forced from her mind, however, as the ground underneath her feet shook, and the building's walls creaked all around them. Liz threw out her arms, steadying herself against Max, while Maria grabbed Michael's arm, and Alex and Kyle both stumbled into the wall.

The fence had exploded. They could not see the fence, and with the door closed behind them, it was impossible even to glimpse the devastation that must have occurred. But it was impossible to ignore the shockwave, or to think it could be anything other than what it was, a burst of energy flowing outwards and all around them.

"Max, shield!" Kyle cried, and Max reacted instantly, spinning around and conjuring a force field all around them. It rippled as it absorbed the wave of energy. The hybrid king was forced to his knees, all his effort put into the strain of holding the shield in place. His determined expression was the last thing Liz saw as the sound of the explosion crushed down on her, and she snapped her eyes shut.

Despite it all, though, Max's shield held, protecting them.

The rest of the hallway around them did not fair as well, and when Liz opened her eyes once more, she saw that the ground was littered with chunks of stone and fragments of marble and glass.

The garden, she thought glumly, was most likely gone.

"Huh… didn't see that one coming," Maria commented dryly as she watched Max climb back to his feet. "So much for sneaking in. Khivar must know we're here now."

"What was in that fence?" Alex muttered under his breath, shaking his head. "That kind of power, contained in such a small place… the force of it, and that combined with the momentum and…"

"We don't need a physics lecture, Alex," Maria quipped with a faint smile.

"_All of our planning still might not even matter. We have to be prepared for the unexpected. Khivar's lair is dangerous," Michael had warned grimly._

"Come on," Michael said with a weary sigh. "Let's keep going."

They continued walking forward, and after a moment Liz found herself staring at one of Khivar's guards. He was frozen in place, his arm outstretched before him, his eyes wide open. It was almost as though he was a statue, an inanimate object instead of something made from flesh and blood.

It was one of the guards that Alex had frozen.

They were at a fork in the hallway, with corridors branching off on either side. The frozen soldiers stood in the middle of the fork, as though guarding it against intruders.

"How long will that hold?" Max asked, frowning.

"Long enough," Alex replied, "but there is still no reason to linger. We don't want to be here when he unfreezes."

"I don't understand," Liz murmured as she stepped around the frozen man. "How does that even work? How can you freeze him, and then just unfreeze him and have everything be okay? Why doesn't it hurt him?"

"It isn't like I turn him into ice," Alex replied softly. "I stop the molecules in his body. It's like putting him in suspended animation for a while."

"Fascinating," Michael drawled, "but skip the whole science conversation. We don't have time for this."

And sure enough, it was at that exact moment that Maria stopped mid-step and hissed, "Incoming! Three to the right, two up ahead, one on your left." A split-second after she had given the warning, Liz could hear the echoing thud of feet slapping against the ground in quick succession, and knew more of Khivar's guards were closing in on them.

Alex again attempted to freeze them, and the footsteps lessoned. But they continued, and Maria shook her head. "You only got two. There still coming. Fast."

When the first of Khivar's followers came into view, Michael sent a burst of energy towards him. The man dodged to the side, disappearing behind the corner. He responded with an attack of his own, crackles of pure energy that seemed to sizzle through the air like lightning bolts.

Liz felt someone push her out of the way, and she hit the ground hard as the air above her hummed with electricity. She rolled over and to her knees, looking up in time to see another soldier coming from a different hallway, rushing towards them and holding some sort of strange gun-shaped device.

Without thinking, she narrowed her eyes at the weapon in his hands, and it suddenly flew from his grasp and shattered against the wall. He looked stunned, and then angry, and as he turned towards her, she saw the inhuman red tint to his eyes. He barred his teeth and sprinted towards her.

The fear that had gripped her melted away, and suddenly she was acting without thinking, fighting as though she knew what to do, and had known all along. They traded blows, and somehow she was able to block his attack and deliver two of her own, a kick to the legs and a jab of her elbow to the stomach. He went down on one knee, but pulled her to the ground with him, his hands wrapping around her throat with inhuman strength.

She struggled for breath, clawing at his face with a ferocity she did not know she possessed. Her nails raked his skin, and the grip on her throat loosened slightly.

"_Lizzie, listen to me. I know you're scared, but you can do this. Trust me. When it actually matters… you'll find the strength to do it. To fight back. I promise," Maria had tried to reassure her._

A moment later, the man was pulled forcefully away from her. She looked up to see Max throwing her attacker bodily against the wall, his eyes filled with rage.

"Keep your hands off my wife," Max snarled.

The enemy was strong, far stronger than Max, but Liz scrambled to her feet and moved to his side, placing a hand on his arm and letting her energy flow through her fingers and into him. And that was all it took for Max to easily gain the upper hand and soon the skin had fallen to the ground, his body turning into dust before their very eyes.

Liz glanced around, and noted that the others had managed to defeat all of their attackers. Maria had a bruise on her face, and Kyle was bleeding slightly from his arm. Alex was disheveled and had scratches along his chin and tears in his shirt near his stomach. Michael had a split lip and a shallow gash near his hairline.

Three dead aliens lay on the floor, their bodies slowly crumbling away.

The adrenaline began to wear off, and Liz was left with an empty feeling, a twisting in her stomach at the realization that she had participated in a fight, she had helped to kill…

…_kill_…

…one of their enemies.

She'd had to, there was no other way. This was a war, and people died. That was the whole point of this mission anyway, to fight back, to stop Khivar. To _kill_ him, and she was part of that.

But that knowledge, the understanding that this was inevitable, did not stop the horror and disgust from forming a hard knot in the pit of her stomach.

"_It won't be easy for you to kill, Parker. Honestly, I'd be a lot more worried if you didn't have any problems with this. But it will be hard, and that is what makes you different from Khivar. Remember that." It was the last thing Michael had said to her before they had left the Resistance Base._

Liz licked her dry lips and saw that Max, too, was having trouble dealing with what had happened, with his own turbulent emotions and the anger he had felt at the sight of Liz struggling for breath.

"We need to keep going," Michael said simply, sternly. "We need to find Khivar."

"I…" Max started, then stopped and ran a hand through his hair, blinking rapidly in an effort to clear his mind. He looked at Liz, and she wished she could give him a reassuring smile, but she was just as confused and lost as he was, and every bit as afraid.

"Max…" Michael's tone was half-warning, half-pleading, "we have to keep going."

Max nodded mutely. Finally, he said, "Okay. Right. Keep going. Find Khivar."

The problem was that this wasn't some sort of spontaneous battle. It wasn't even pure self-defense. It was certainly defense, but it was proactive. They were hunting down Khivar, taking the fight to him.

They were going to kill Khivar in cold blood.

And Liz knew that Max was uncomfortable with that idea. Just like she was. It was unavoidable, it was to save the future, it was all for the best, but still…

It would make her a killer. And she wasn't sure she was okay with that.

"_What if I can't do this?" Max had asked nervously. "What if I'm not strong enough? What if I get cold feet? What if…?"_

"_Max, listen to me," it had been Alex who had answered, "you can do this. You are a king, and we are your friends. We are going to be there to help you. We've got your back. All of us."_

"_Yes, but…"_

"_We have faith in you," Maria had added. "We all do. That's why Serena and Kal and Aaron and Voj are willing to lead the others in a battle against Khivar's troops. It was why our soldiers are fighting even as we speak. And it is why all of us are coming with you. It's why Michael came up with this plan in the first place. Because you _can_ do this." _

Liz looked at Max, then at all the others. They were still standing there, still staring at Max, still waiting. But there was no worry or apprehension in their eyes, no fear or doubt in their expressions.

They had faith. In her and in Max.

And that realization made everything seem just the tiniest bit easier to handle.

And then Michael fell to the ground, clutching his head and hissing in pain. Maria ran to his side, her eyes wide with panic, and Max and Liz both looked helplessly around the empty hallway, trying to determine where the attack was coming from and who was behind it.

It was Kyle, standing apart from the others, who closed his eyes for a moment, then drew a deep breath and said in a tone filled with a thousand different emotions, "Hello, Tess."

She stepped out of the hallway to their left, and Liz gaped at her in shock and horror. Her blonde hair was pulled back from her face and twisted into an elegant knot at the base of her neck, with a few loose strands that hung down around her chin. Her eyes, eyes that had been a brilliant shade of sapphire, were so dark that they were almost black. They stood out in stark contrast against her pale skin and colorless lips.

She smiled, revealing two rows of perfect teeth. "Hello, Karan."

Michael had stopped gripping his head at that point, and it was clear that Tess had been the source of his pain. She spared him a brief glance, a smirk plastered to her face, before turning her attention back to Kyle.

"What brings you here, love?" she asked with a drawl.

And Kyle, indecision and guilt twisting the features of his face, answered in a tone filled with remorse, and yet still underlined with steel, "We're here to fight you."


	13. Between Friend and Foe

Title: When Times Collide

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: This chapter switches back and forth between the past and the present. All italics are from the past (not their past lives, just the past). So don't let that confuse you.

Summary: When Max and Liz's daughter arrives in the past, two times collide in a desperate race to save the future.

* * *

Chapter Thirteen: Between Friend and Foe

"_Kyle, I understand your frustration…"_

"_No, you don't!" Kyle snarled, his hands balled into fists at his side, his eyes flashing with dangerous anger as he advanced slowly on Michael. Around him, the air was charged with electricity, and his emotions were rapidly spinning out of control._

"_Why won't you just face the facts?" Michael snapped back, refusing to be intimidated. "Tess betrayed us. That's the only explanation. Why else would she have taken Isabel to Khivar?"_

_A lamp near Kyle exploded, ceramic shards spinning into the air. The others in the room – Max, Maria, and Alex – all flinched in surprise, though neither Michael nor Kyle seemed to pay it any attention._

"_Those are the facts as you see them," Kyle retorted heatedly. "Did it occur to you that maybe Khivar got both of them? Maybe Tess was a victim as well…"_

"_And it is just a coincidence that Khivar kidnaps my sister only days after Tess comes back to us?" Max asked, speaking up softly, but in a tone laced with sarcasm._

"_Then maybe Khivar did something to Tess," Kyle argued, spinning to glare at Max. "Why are you so determined to blame her for this?"_

"_Because you're too blind to see the truth," Max hissed, striding towards Kyle with a rage that shook through every part of his body, threatening to consume him. "She's a traitor. Open your eyes, Kyle. Tess is gone… and she took Isabel with her."_

_And he pushed past Kyle and stormed from the room._

_There was a moment of silence, then Alex got up and said in a hoarse voice, "I need to check on Vilandra." And he, too, stepped around Kyle, keeping his eyes averted as though unable to meet his friend's gaze._

"_Tess betrayed us," Michael said firmly, coldly. He waited until Kyle was looking at him before continuing, "Either accept that fact and continue to fight with us, or leave. But don't get in our way." Without another word or a single sympathetic glance, Michael stalked away, leaving Kyle and Maria alone in the room._

"_Kyle…" Maria started, and then stopped, her expression a picture of indecision. There was sympathy in her gaze, a sympathy that the others had not managed to muster for him. But even so, she couldn't bring herself to offer any words of comfort._

_Because, like the rest, she believed Tess to be a traitor. What else could they believe, with all the evidence staring them in the face?_

_Kyle was her brother, or, at least, as close to a brother as she was ever going to have. It had taken her a very long time, but she'd slowly grown to accept the fact that he was practically family, and now their rivalry had turned into friendly banter. Like siblings._

_And this, she knew, must feel to him as though they were all choosing Isabel over Tess, Alex over him._

_Once upon a time, she hadn't liked Kyle. And once upon a time, she'd been part of the group that had conspired to keep him in the dark. They'd lied to him, and to his father. It had been before they'd known he was an alien, before they'd known she and Liz and Alex were aliens. It had been before they'd even known who Max and the other three were in their past lives. Before the skins came to Roswell… back when their only problems had been the FBI._

_For an entire year, he'd been the enemy…_

_She had thought it didn't matter anymore. She had thought that he had understood. And maybe she was right, maybe he had understood why they had done that, why they had been so desperate to protect their secrets, even if it meant lying to him. But…_

_Old wounds. Pains of the past._

_A past just wouldn't stay buried._

"_Get out," Kyle said coldly, turning his back on her._

"_Kyle, I…"_

"Now!_"_

_She turned and left, the reverberation of her footsteps echoing behind her in the silence._

* * *

_  
_

Once upon a time, Kyle had though Tess was the most beautiful woman in the world. In any world. In the entire universe. Once upon a time, all it took was a single glance from her, and his heart would momentarily stop beating.

When she looked at him now, his heart stopped beating – but for an entirely different reason.

There was little about her that was beautiful now. Oh, physically she was every bit as stunning as she had ever been. Her hair, glossy blonde strands that fell in perfect curls to frame her heart-shaped face, accentuated by wide blue eyes that stood out against her porcelain skin… She smiled, red lips curving enticingly at the corners, revealing perfect white teeth…

But her eyes were cold, inhuman, completely devoid of anything recognizable. And he could not tear his gaze away from those eyes, from the mocking cruelty that shone in their depths.

"Fight me?" Tess repeated, her smile widening into a grin. "How quaint." She slanted a look at Michael as she continued speaking, her words still addressing Kyle. "And do you think, love, that you can kill me before I kill your darling General Rath?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Kyle saw Maria take a threatening step forward. But Michael caught her arm and stopped her, climbing slowly to his feet as he gazed at Tess.

Tess looked past Michael and focused her attention on Max and Liz. "Oh, and look, Zan and Ava have joined the party. How fun! I wonder, how many times are we going to have to kill you before you actually stay dead?"

Kyle watched as Liz stiffened, as Max drew a sharp breath. Max had seen Isabel, had witnessed the change in his sister, but Liz was completely unprepared for what Khivar had been able to do. Tess' transformation obviously unnerved the brunette, and Kyle could not blame her.

It was hard, as he looked at Tess, to somehow reconcile the woman before him with the one he had married all those years ago.

"Leave them out of this," Kyle said sharply. "This is between you and me, Tess."

"Is it, love?' she asked, and he knew she was calling him _love_ as a way of cruelly teasing him, of reminding him of all that he had lost.

But he had to be strong, he had to somehow fight through the despair that threatened to overwhelm him. He could not give in to the emotions that pulled at him, tried to tear him apart. He had to focus on Tess, on fighting her, on stopping her.

She was the enemy now.

"You know, Khivar told me that you were somehow back from the dead, Zan, but he neglected to mention Ava's return," Tess commented as she walked forward, circling Max and Liz with a predatory smile. Midnight eyes focused on Liz as she continued, "It is quite a surprise to see you in the flesh, Ava."

Max took a threatening step forward, but Alex hissed an immediate warning, "Don't!" Max hesitated, looking torn, but saw the worry in Alex's side and did not make any more moves towards Tess.

She smirked as a callous laughed escaped her lips. "Afraid of something, Ansem?" she asked, glancing quickly at Alex. Then she spun around to face Kyle again. "You are all so afraid, aren't you? Tell me, love, what was your plan? Did you really think you could somehow defeat Khivar?"

Kyle did not answer. Like Michael, Maria, and Alex, he fully understood the danger Tess presented. Unlike the men, who had primarily physical powers, her mind-warp was purely mental, and so could not be all that easily prevented. Unlike the other women, who also had mental powers, her mind-warp was lethal. If they chose to attack her, it would need to be an attack that would instantly incapacitate her, or she would use her power against them.

She could, quite literally, destroy a mind in the blink of an eye.

* * *

_Maria gazed out the window of the car, staring at the bleak desert landscape around her. They were driving into the city, needing more supplies, and she was less than thrilled about being stuck in the car with a very moody Max and an exhausted Liz. . But Michael had been unable to come, too wrapped up in battle plans, and Alex was still so consumed with grief that she hadn't even bothered asking him._

_Kyle, too, had been out of the question for just as equally obvious reasons._

_The silence was overpowering, filled with tension and unease and pain. And Maria wished that there was something she could have done, some words she could have uttered to ease the grief that hung over both Max and Alex like a heavy cloud. Because, despite her initial dislike of Isabel all those years ago, she had come to like the other girl._

_Eventually, she'd started thinking of Isabel as family._

_And now Isabel was gone._

_They'd all seen the wedding, seen the way Khivar had flaunted his marriage on every major news station in the world. He'd wanted them all to know that he had Isabel, that she was _his_ wife, _his_ love. That she didn't belong to Alex, or to any of them, not anymore._

"_What if we're wrong?" she ventured suddenly, needing to ask the question even though she knew how it would be received._

_Max's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white. Liz shifted uncomfortably in her seat._

"_About what?" the brunette asked quietly, even though they all knew exactly what Maria was referring to, what the question had been asking._

"_What if Kyle is right?" she continued, whispering as though somehow afraid that saying the words out loud would bring misery and misfortune on them all. "When… when _she_ came back from being captured… we all knew something was different. We could sense it. And we know what Khivar can do, we saw what he did to Isabel. What if…?"_

_If Tess had been brainwashed, if she wasn't actually a traitor…_

_It was Liz who voiced what they were all thinking. "It doesn't really make a difference now, does it? She's gone. Like Isabel. She's beyond our reach."_

"_We will get her back," Max said suddenly, strongly, firmly. "If she… if she isn't a traitor… we'll get her back. We will get them both back."_

* * *

"Come now," Tess murmured, stepping close to Kyle. "You said you were going to fight me. So fight."

Kyle didn't do anything. He just stared at her, at those midnight blue eyes, and forced himself to breathe.

"If you all attacked me at the same time, I would not stand a chance," Tess continued, reaching out and running her fingers lightly along Kyle's chest. His emotions slammed into each other at her touch, and he caught her hand swiftly, holding it for a moment.

Then he dropped her hand and stepped backwards, knowing that Michael and Alex had both come to his side, lending their silent support.

"You won't, though," Tess continued, her gaze never leaving Kyle. "Because, though you might be able to defeat me, you know that in such a battle, I would take at least one of you with me. And you are far too terrified of loss to risk that." She folded her arms over her chest. "Pathetic, as always. It is why you will never win."

"Actually," Michael countered, "it is exactly why we _will_ win."

They had not counted on Tess. She was in their plan, but not in this way. They had expected her to be with Khivar, expected not to have to fight her until the final battle. She was always with Khivar, his trusted advisor, his greatest ally except for Isabel. They had not planned for this.

But all plans, Kyle knew, had to be flexible. Most battles did not go exactly according to plan, and improvisation was a necessary skill for the average General.

And Michael was far beyond an average General.

"Take us to Khivar."

Tess laughed. Kyle might have done the same, given how preposterous Michael's words sounded, but he could not make a sound.

"And why would I do that?" Tess asked softly, moving away from Kyle and towards Michael.

"Why not?" Michael asked. "I imagine he wants to see us. Or, at least, to see them," he nodded towards Max and Liz. "What harm is there in bringing us to him?"

"Or I could kill you, and bring your dead bodies," Tess retorted. "How does that idea sound to you?"

"You won't," Michael answered confidently, striding forward. "If you had wanted to kill us, you would have done it already. But you won't, because you're no fool. You know that you wouldn't be able to defeat all of us. Sure, you could kill a few, but we'd take you down with us. And you value your life too much to risk that."

"Then I'll call for backup," Tess answered without hesitation. "The benefit of being a Queen, there are several others in this complex who will happily die to protect me."

She spoke of death so easily, as though it was not anything particularly important. It chilled Kyle, the way she was willing to let others die so long as it served her purpose. It was cold, calculating manipulation, and she spoke of it with a thin smirk and a twinkle of laughter in her eyes.

"Tell me," Michael asked, throwing her own words back at her, "do you think you can call your soldiers to you and fight us, all before we kill you? How long will it take them to get here, Tess, and how long do you think it will take us to destroy you?"

Something flickered in Tess' eyes, something akin to fear. But it was gone as soon as it had come, and the dark orbs became ruthless once more. "Ah, but as we have already established, you won't attack me."

Michael tilted his head to the side and said thoughtfully, "No, I suppose we won't. But you also won't risk openly attacking us. So where does that leave us? At stalemate?" Tess did not reply, and Michael pressed, "And how would you resolve that? What other solution is there besides you leading us to Khivar?"

Tess seemed to be actually considering this, and Kyle felt able to breath just a little bit better. He tore his gaze away from her and stared instead at Max and Liz. Max looked angry, his face flushed a dark red, his hands clenched into tight fists. But Liz was just the opposite – so pale, all the blood draining from her face, her colorless lips partially open.

They could not believe what they saw before their very eyes.

He supposed he could not really believe it either. Even after all these years, even after knowing what had happened to his wife, he still had trouble wrapping his head around the fact that she had become this… this thing. So foreign, so unrecognizable.

So alien.

"And if I take you to Khivar?" Tess said finally. "What happens then?"

It was Alex who answered, "What do you think happens? Why do you think we are here?"

"A battle? How quaint." Tess let her eyes drift past Michael, over Max and Liz, and beyond Alex. They settled, with a cruel grin, on Maria. "And you brought the useless empath. What do you expect her to do? Besides die, of course…"

For a moment, Michael's rational and calm façade cracked, and temper flared in his expression. He took a step forward, hands moving instinctively towards Tess, but stopped himself just in time. Even so, Tess turned back to him, her grin broadening at his obvious anger.

"Oh… looks like your soldier's mask isn't quite strong enough, is it? Did I hit a nerve?"

"Enough of this," Michael growled. "Take us to Khivar, or start to fight. It's your decision, Tess. Make it."

* * *

_By the time Liz was able to track down Kyle, she had already started wondering if this conversation was coming too late. But they knew the truth now, knew about what had happened to Tess, and she couldn't _not_ say something Kyle._

_But what would she even say?_

_Somehow, "Sorry I thought your wife was a traitor," seemed just a little bit too trite._

_He was sitting in his room, flipping through the pages of a book. Skylar was not there, and Liz could only assume that he was spending time with his grandfather. Jim had done his best to take care of the baby since Tess' departure had left him motherless, and Kyle, though he loved him son, was completely inept when it came to caring for infants._

"_Hey," she said, a little nervous, standing awkwardly in the doorway._

_He looked at her, eyes devoid of emotion. "Hey," he answered casually, though it was clear he was not thrilled by her presence._

"_How's it going?" she asked._

_He narrowed his eyes. "What do you want?" he asked bluntly, straight to the point._

_She fidgeted, pulling at her dark hair. "I… I don't know. I just… I'm sorry, Kyle."_

_Kyle didn't bother pretending not to understand. "Are you?" he asked sharply, icily. "Are you really?" Liz flinched, but did not answer, and Kyle pressed heatedly, "It was so easy for you to believe that Tess would betray us. That she would turn on me and our _son_. Isabel, of course, could not possibly be to blame for anything, but Tess…?"_

"_Kyle…" Liz stopped, lowered her gaze. They knew now that neither Tess nor Isabel were responsible for their actions, for the people Khivar had forced them to become. But the fact that it had taken them so long to realize it meant that the rift between Kyle and the others had grown, becoming almost unsurpassable._

"_You just couldn't get past it, could you?" Kyle sneered, the force of his anger and pain finally crashing through his calm façade. "Even after all this time, you still thought of Tess as the person who had tried to steal Max from you." His words were bitter, laced with acid, and his eyes reflected his rage. "Didn't matter that she was lied to, just like the rest of us. Didn't matter that Nasedo was evil. Didn't matter that we'd all moved on, that Tess and I were happy, that we had a son. You still looked at her and saw a villain."_

"_That's not true," Liz protested, and it wasn't. At least not completely. But what else were they supposed to believe when Tess led the skins to them and helped Khivar kidnap Isabel? True, it hadn't been too difficult for Liz to imagine Tess as a traitor…_

"_Isn't it?" Kyle sneered. "Isn't that the reason Maria believed it also? And Alex, Max, and Michael, they were far too busy grieving for Isabel to even consider worrying about Tess. She wasn't important, was she? Not to you, not to them. Not to anyone but me, and apparently I wasn't important enough to you either, or maybe you would have listened to me. Maybe you would have tried to understand my point of view. Maybe you would have cared."_

_He turned away from her, physically blocking her out._

_Liz ran a hand through her hair and fumbled for something else to say, some words that could make this all better. But what could she offer besides empty apologies that Kyle did not want to hear?_

_How had this happened? They had prided themselves on standing together, standing strong, united against Khivar. How had they left Tess and Isabel slip through their fingers so easily? How had they allowed the chasm to grow between them and Kyle, to force apart the once tightly knit group?_

"_You never liked her. Not as Tess, and not as Tarea. And you know, she never really liked you. But I thought…" Kyle sighed, and now, instead of sounding angry, he just sounded tired. "I thought it was okay. I thought we had moved passed that. I thought… I thought the past was really going to stay in the past. But it didn't. Maybe it never does."_

_There was nothing Liz could say to that, so a silence fell over them once more._

* * *

Tess sighed, a little dramatically, and said, "As you wish, General Rath. But you really should learn some patience."

"You've made your decision?" Alex asked, and Kyle held his breath, watching Tess closely.

She smiled again, that same icy smile that seemed forever fixed to her cool and collected expression. "I'll take you to him," she answered, turning back to Kyle. "But I won't take you there without giving him fair warning that you are coming."

Maria shifted imperceptibly and hissed at Michael, "What about the element of surprise?"

The taciturn hybrid shook his head. "He won't have enough time to prepare much anyway," he murmured in reply.

"You'd be surprised," Tess smirked, having heard the entire exchange.

Michael's eyes flashed dangerously. "No tricks, Tess. You lead us to your army of loyal followers, and you will die before you get a chance to escape."

"What's the matter?" she taunted. "Don't you trust me?" There were no smiles in response to her words, and she gave a petulant sight. "As you wish. No tricks." With a careless shrug, she added, "You'll all die soon enough, anyway. Why should I care if it is Khivar or I who has the honor of destroying you?"

"Your word, Tess. No tricks."

She raised an eyebrow at Maria's harsh demand and asked pointedly, "What would my word mean to you? Do you really think I won't break it?"

Maria answered coldly, "Do you really think I won't be able to tell if you start entertaining thoughts of tricking us? I can sense your emotions, Tess, and I am good enough at that to interpret exactly what they mean."

Kyle saw, reflected in Tess' expression, the acceptance of the truth behind Maria's words. No one could lie to Maria, not if she was focusing all her energy, all her powers, on their intentions. Even Tess, with all her abilities to manipulate a person's mind, could not lie to Maria.

"Fine. My word. No tricks." And Tess turned, beckoning them with one hand to follow her.

Kyle had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep the words of anger and anguish at bay. They followed Tess through the winding hallways, and though she never took her eyes from Michael, he knew that she was acutely aware of his presence. She was mocking him, ignoring him completely just to upset him more.

He tried to force his emotions back under control, but they ran wild now. She walked only a step in front of him, and he could smell the perfume that lingered in the air around her, could hear the steady rhythm of her breathing. He had loved that, once, that he could feel so close to her even when she was not looking at him.

He hated it now. All it did was remind him of what they had lost, what had been stolen by Khivar.

He slanted a look at Alex, wondering how the other man was dealing with all this. Would Isabel be here as well? Would she come to fight them?

He was not the only one who was affected so deeply by this. Alex had lost his wife, Max had lost his sister. Sometimes he forgot that. Sometimes, faced with the pain of his own shortcomings, caught up in the agony of all that the had been unable to do, those he had been unable to protect, he forgot that he was not alone in his grief.

Fortunately, he often had others who would remind him of that simple fact.

In silence, the group walked forward, through the hallways, ready to face Khivar. To face their enemy, to reclaim their family members, to take back what was rightfully theirs. To fight back. _Together_.

* * *

_Alex flipped the coin back and forth between his hands, watching as it landed on heads or tails. He'd long since lost count of the number of times it landed heads, which has been his original intention when he sat down over and hour ago._

_Somehow, he had not yet found the strength to stand up again and face the rest of the day._

_He heard the footsteps behind him, and did not need to look up to identify the person intruding on his solitude. He did not speak right away, but finally asked in an exhausted tone, "How are you doing, Kyle?"_

_Kyle walked into the room with a bitter chuckle. "Just fine," he snapped in reply. "You?"_

_Alex shrugged half-heartedly and watched as Kyle took a seat across from him. He could easily read the conflicting emotion in those stormy blue eyes, just as easily as he could identify every worry line on Kyle's face. He imagined his expression looked somewhat the same, reflecting the same fears and grief that Kyle was feeling._

"_I don't know how to do this without her," he confided after a moment. "Without Isabel…" He trailed off with a sigh. "I was always the one following her around like a lovesick puppy. Now… it's like I don't know who to turn to anymore."_

"_You have Liz and Maria," Kyle said, his voice hard. "You can turn to them."_

"_And you? Who will you turn to?" Alex countered. He understood Kyle's anger, knew that much of it, for good or ill, was directed at the remaining aliens. But he would not let that anger hurt him._

_He'd been hurt too much already, he was not entirely sure he was capable of feeling more pain._

_Kyle glowered without responding._

"_You never really liked Zan," Alex murmured. "I remember that. Zan and Rath you particularly disliked, although Vilandra also… It wasn't that odd, given that they did not particularly like you. Zan often felt threatened by your friendship with Ava, even after you were married to Tarea. Do you remember that?"_

"_I do." Kyle looked past Alex, not really seeing him anymore as he focused instead on his vague memories from the past. "Tarea became so friendly with Zan and Rath… and especially Vilandra… but I could not stand them…"_

"_Much like how Tarea despised Ava." Alex licked his lips and set the coin down on the table in front of him. It was heads facing up. "It's odd, for all your disagreements… we still managed to be so close. Practically family."_

"_Is this your subtle way of telling me to stop being angry at the others?" Kyle sneered, rolling his eyes._

_Alex smiled faintly. "I didn't think it was all that subtle."_

"_Why was it so easy to believe…"_

"_It wasn't," Alex interrupted before Kyle could finish the question. "Kyle, you know it wasn't easy for any of us to believe that of Tess. When she first disappeared, we all believed she had been kidnapped. When she came back and there was something off about her, we all assumed it was because of what she had been through, what had happened to her. When the skins found our hiding place, none of us thought it was Tess. Not until we saw her leaving with Isabel, not until there was nothing else we could believe… Not until we had run out of every other option. That was when we thought it might be Tess… and as soon as we found proof that it wasn't, we believed that instead."_

_Kyle shifted uncomfortably and stared at Alex, before giving a slow nod. He was stubborn, angry, moody, cold… but he was honest. And when he recognized the truth in another person's words, he did his best to accept it for what it was._

_Alex blinked, his eyes pooling with unshed tears as they often did now that Isabel was gone. "Whatever else you can say about what happened, you cannot pretend it was _easy_ for us to believe Tess was a traitor." After a minute, he added, "And we _are_ family. You know that, too."_

"_I know," Kyle answered, his voice choked._

"_For what it's worth," Alex murmured, "I am sorry about Tess."_

"_Yeah…" Kyle ran a hand through his hair. "And I'm sorry about Isabel."_

"_So… what happens now?" Alex questioned._

_Kyle gave an ironic laugh. "I have no idea."_


	14. Battle of the Kings part one

Title: When Times Collide

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Summary: When Max and Liz's daughter comes to the past, two times collide in a desperate race to save the future.

* * *

Chapter Fourteen: Battle of the Kings (part one)

"_Come out! Come out, you spineless villain! Come out, traitor. Come out and face me! Or will you attack me from the shadows like the coward you are?" Zan screamed, the words tearing from his lips as he pushed his way through the corridor. The palace floor was covered in dead bodies, the eyes of the victims staring unseeingly at the bloodshed that surrounded them. The battle had raged within the castle itself for three days now, and still he had not seen Khivar, not since…_

_The memory of Ava's broken body haunted him, taunting him, reminding him of all that he could not do, of the one person who mattered to him more than anyone or anything else in the world. A person he had not been able to save._

"_I am no coward, Zan," came the cold answer, and Zan spun in time to see Khivar emerge from the hallway to his left. "Do not accuse me of that."_

"_You traitorous scum," Zan spat, face suffused with fury. "You come and murder my wife, take my sister, seek my throne…"_

"_It is not your thrown anymore," Khivar replied fiercely. "There is a new rule, Zan. My rule. Welcome to the new Antar." He stepped closer, his eyes glittering with triumph. "Your fearless General Rath is dead, as is his precious wife. Even now, my soldiers are taking Lord Ansem prisoner, and attacking Queen Tarea and King Karan. It is over. You've lost."_

_Zan flung out his hands, sending a blast of energy at Khivar. "Is this your Antar?" he asked harshly as the skin king was thrown back against the wall. He advanced, gesturing towards the bodies sprawled all around them. "Is this your vision of the future? Death and destruction? War?"_

"_When you are gone, I will rebuild it," Khivar answered with a careless shrug, pulling himself back to his feet as though Zan's attack had not fazed him in the slightest._

"_And what about everyone you killed? All the unnecessary death, all the lives you ruined, all the families you tore apart? How will you rebuild those?" Zan snarled, rage coursing through his body. How dare this imposter pretend that he had any right to call himself a king? He cared nothing for the lives of others, saw people as merely a means to an end. He had ruined this planet, destroyed it completely in his crazed quest for power._

"_Every war has a cost. All change comes at a price," Khivar answered icily, his dark eyes narrowed. Zan attacked again, but he waved his hand carelessly, and the attack of energy sizzled and faded away before it could reach him. "Why do you still fight? Do you think you can defeat me? Do you underestimate me that much?"_

_He flicked both wrists, electricity appearing in bright red dots around his fingers before crackling through the air, flinging themselves at Zan. The King of Antar barely had time to conjure a shield, to deflect the attack before it could hit him. _

"_You will die," Zan retorted viciously. "It is your time."_

"_Have you learned nothing from the death of your wife, the loss of your sister?" Khivar asked, his voice filled with mocking, maniacal laughter. "You've lost. You destiny is over, Zan. You have fallen, and I will take your place."_

_The distant sound of footsteps echoed around them, and the hallway shook with the stampede of soldiers. Zan turned, his gaze leaving Khivar for a moment and looking towards the window to his right. He could see the courtyard through the glass, see Khivar's forces as they amassed on the cobblestone patio._

"_Your castle is overrun," Khivar pressed, launching another attack at Zan, catching him off guard. As Zan stumbled backwards, pain bursting in his chest, Khivar advanced with a grim smile. "Your soldiers defeated, your friends and family dead. Your king's crown," his eyes flicked to the silver coronet resting on Zan's brow, "means nothing now. And old relic, tarnished and broken."_

_Zan lashed out, the ground around him trembling with the force of his fury. But the attack was not enough to stop Khivar, and the skin king laughed again, lips twisting into a sneer. He moved swiftly, viciously kicking Zan in the stomach and sending his opponent sprawling to the floor. The air grew heavy with the hiss of energy and electricity, turning humid and hot as the battle between the two raged on, as the war continued to play out all around them._

_But Khivar had the advantage. Zan, alone and exhausted from days of fighting, could not possibly hope to hold his own against the madman. Not with the skin soldiers coming closer with every passing second, not with the tremendous loss of Ava and everyone else weighing heavily on him._

_Khivar grabbed Zan, physically pulling him to his feet and slamming him into the opposite wall. His hands began to glow, the same eerie red that had appeared as he killed Ava, and Zan felt the blood rush into his lungs, choking him as pain blurred his vision._

_Just before everything went black, he felt Khivar vicious rip his crown from his head and cast it to the ground. It fell with a clatter, rolling over and coming to a rest next to the dead body of a royal soldier._

"_You lose," Khivar whispered._

_And Zan, King of Antar, died._

* * *

_  
_

"Zan, Ava. Welcome to my home," the man said, spreading his arms wide.

He wasn't what Max had expected.

The image of Khivar he had held in his mind for so long included flashing black eyes, a hooked nose, long, pale fingers, and a pointed hat or a cape. The skin king was supposed to be surrounded by an aura of evil, heavy shadows that cloaked his body. He should have looked cruel, tyrannical, inhuman.

But he was not any of those things.

He was slightly taller than average, with a wiry frame. His brown hair and brown eyes blended into his tan skin, and he was dressed in a distinguished black suit. He was smiling, a hint of smugness in his gaze.

They were standing in a large room. Behind Khivar, two elaborately carved chairs stood on a raised platform, giving the place an appearance of a throne room. The walls were lined with tables, and three rows of chairs were set out before the thrones. Two of the sides of the room were covered in windows, large glass panes that spanned from the floor to the ceiling. Beyond the windows, they could see a lawn sloping downwards towards a distant gate. The floor was made of a smooth, polished wood that reflected the light of the several chandeliers swinging from the ceiling above them.

Behind the thrones, a staircase rose towards a balcony that jutted out from the wall. The balcony was encircled by a railing of black marble, and beyond the railing were two heavy doors. Standing on the balcony were two guards, tall, broad skins with unemotional expressions. Between them, they held a woman tightly in their grasp. Her blonde hair fell over terrified eyes, and her pale skin was bruised at her chin and collarbone.

Michael saw her, and froze.

"Rath," Khivar said, stepping forward towards them. "It appears I have something of yours."

The woman met Michael's eyes, and for a moment they just stared at each other. Then she cried out in words tinged with panic, "Michael! What are you waiting for? Kill him!"

One of the guards shook her viciously, and her snapped back as her teeth rattled. She was far enough away from them that they could not possibly reach out to her, but still close enough for them to see the pain in her eyes.

"Careful," Khivar warned as Michael took an involuntary step towards the woman. "I could have her killed before you could even _think_ about rescuing her."

Max frowned, glancing between the skin king, Michael, and the trapped woman. He had no idea what was happening, but knew better than to ask. He should know who this woman was, and admitting that he did not would give Khivar too much information about the situation.

His question was answered soon enough as Michael murmured, "Laurie," and the pieces of the puzzle came together for him. Laurie Dupree, Michael's human sister, had been at the safe-house in Santa Fe. They had never learned if she had made it out alive, but now it seemed the answer was right before them.

"So it seems we are at an impasse," Khivar continued, his smile turning into a smirk as his gaze moved from Michael to Max and Liz. "I have something you want, but you have something I want as well." He stared hard at Max, taking in the hybrid King's appearance, then let his attention fall entirely onto Liz. "Hello, Ava."

Out of the corner of his eye, Max watched as Liz stiffened, but refused to let the fear show on her face. She stood close enough to him that he could practically feel her frantically beating heart, could hear the soft intake of breath, the only signs that she was afraid.

"Hello, Khivar," she replied.

Tess stepped away from the group and walked to Khivar, coming to stand beside him. They exchanged significant looks, but Max could not even begin to guess what silent messages they were relaying.

"Where's my sister?" he asked, because finding Isabel was important. If they succeeded in destroying Khivar, they would need to locate her and determine if that had removed whatever hold he had over her.

"Off having her own fun," Khivar sneered. "But she sends her regards. And she's sorry she won't be here to see you die."

"What are you doing?" Laurie cried again, her voice hoarse. "Why are you just standing there? You've got Khivar outnumbered, but his soldiers will be here any moment. Attack him now, while you can still win!"

The other guard backhanded her, and she crumpled to the ground from the force of the blow. Collapsed in a heap on the balcony above them, she was mostly hidden from view, but that did not stop Max from wincing, nor did it stop Michael from narrowing his eyes in dangerous anger.

"I propose a trade," Khivar said. "I'll give you Laurie, if you give me Ava and Zan."

Michael laughed. It was a harsh sound, chilling and cold, and Max turned sharply towards his friend. But Michael was staring at Khivar as though the rest of the world did not exist, as though he was unaware that there was anyone else in the room.

"How about this idea, Khivar?" he asked sharply. "You give us Laurie, and we'll make your death quick and painless."

"Well, well, well…" Khivar clicked his tongue against his teeth as he came closer to Michael. "When did you become so brutal, General? That is quite a bit out of character, isn't it?"

Max watched the millions of emotions flickering in Michael's eyes, then turned his own desperate gaze towards the others. With Laurie trapped by the guards, there was little they could do to fight the skin king, nothing that would not risk her life. But they were running out of time, and they had to put their plan into action.

Maria rested a hand on her husband's arm, worry etched into every line in her face. Liz bit her bottom lip with a nervous expression, continuing to stare at the balcony, at the place where Laurie was now being dragged to her feet. Kyle remained impassive, his eyes never leaving Tess.

It was Alex who acted quickly, decisively.

"Michael, attack him! _Now_!" he ordered, at the same he turned towards Laurie's guards and concentrated all his power on them. They both froze, and Laurie, realizing that her captors were immobile, yanked herself from their grasp.

"No!" Khivar hissed, turning sharply towards Laurie, prepared to attack her. But Michael sent a blast of energy at the skin king, and Khivar was forced to spin back towards him, deflecting the energy. The second attack came from Kyle, the ground around Khivar exploding into fragments that flew through the air. Khivar stumbled backwards, momentarily surprised.

Laurie scrambled to the staircase, and Michael rushed towards her, intent on reaching his sister.

But the relief that Max felt as the scene unfolded was short-lived, as he heard Tess remark coolly, "That was remarkably unintelligent."

And before Max could voice a warning, the petite hybrid had turned towards Michael, her eyes hardening as lines of concentration appeared on her forehead.

And Michael fell to his knees, clutching his head as a scream ripped from his throat. Maria and Laurie both rushed to his side, identical looks of horror and fear on their faces.

But Liz turned towards Tess, her lips pressed together into a thin line, and Max watched in surprise as she flung out one hand, green sparks appearing at her fingers. Tess was thrown forcefully back through the air, slamming heavily into the ground. She rolled to her side almost immediately, however, and turned icy blue eyes towards Liz.

"Do you really think you are strong enough to stop me, Ava?" she asked bitterly, mockingly. "Foolish, as always, I see. Will you never learn?"

"You are the fool," Liz replied, her voice laced with venom, "if you think I will stand by and let you kill my family."

Khivar had regained his footing, and stepped carefully through the remains of the ruined wood floor. He glanced from Tess and Liz to his frozen guards on the balcony, to Michael, Maria, and Laurie all crouching on the floor near the stairs. Eyes dancing with laughter, he turned towards Max.

"How many more will die before you give up, Zan?"

"My name," Max replied through clenched teeth, "is Max."

"What do names matter? Max, Zan… whatever you call yourself, you will still die today. Again." Khivar seemed to hesitate, as though considering something, before he added, "And I suppose I will have to make sure this death lasts. Though I never seem to grow tired of killing you. _That_ is always a pleasure."

"This time," Max argued quietly, "you will be the one to die, and the pleasure will be all mine."

"Is that so?" Khivar countered. "I've won every time in the past. What makes you think this battle will have a different outcome than the one on Antar?"

"I made a mistake," Max admitted slowly, his eyes never leaving Khivar's face. "Before, on Antar… I faced you alone." He did not need to see the others to know they had moved to his side, aligned themselves behind them. He could feel their presence all around, supporting him. Still gazing at Khivar, he continued softly, "But I'm not alone now, am I?"

"It will make no difference," Khivar snapped. "You have come, just the six of you. But I have all my soldiers," he jerked his head towards Tess, "and all of her followers as well."

"You have your thrown and your soldiers and your power," Max agreed readily enough. "But I have my family. And you are no match for that. For us."

Again, Khivar nodded towards Tess. "Not all your family, Zan," he cautioned. "You're still missing two. Or have you decided to disown them?"

"I'll get them back," Max answered confidently. "Just wait and see, Khivar. I will defeat you. I will _not_ lose. Not this time."

"You already have," Khivar answered. "Do you really think you can save both your precious sister and Tarea? It's one or the other, you have to pick."

"What do you mean?" Max demanded harshly, dread filling his stomach.

Khivar placed his hand on Tess' shoulder and said, "I have made her what she is. Quite the trick, wasn't it, kidnapping her, and then returning her only to truly be planting a traitor in your very midst. But I am not the one who took your sister from you."

Max glanced at Tess, at the quirk of her lips, the hint of a smile in her cold eyes.

"Who do you think it was that mind-warped your sister, that drew her away from your safe-house? Who caused her to forget this life, to turn to me instead of you and your darling Ansem? Or, Alex, I believe you call him. But don't you see? Everything your sister is now, that is because of _Tarea_."

"It is still your fault," Max retorted furiously. "You did this to us, you took away everything. You took away Tess and made her a monster. It is your fault that she kidnapped Isabel, you are the one who made her do that!"

"True," Khivar agreed musingly. "I must admit to that much, as I would not want credit to go to anyone else, would I?" Then he shrugged, smiling that same, chilling smile. "But you miss the point, Zan. I am not telling you that Tarea – the real Tarea beneath this veneer I have given her – is to blame for what happened. But I am telling you that the only way to break my control over Vilandra is to destroy the one who physically did this to her."

Max swallowed painfully, understanding the meaning in those words.

The only way to save Isabel would be to kill Tess.

* * *

_  
_

Liz watched as Max and Khivar exchanged fierce words and angry insults, staring at each other with cold and calculating gazes. Everything was happening now, rushing forward, coming together to the inevitable climax, the confrontation that could not be avoided. They were about to be thrown headlong into the battle that would decide the fate of multiple worlds… and the outcome rested on her.

She was scared. Terrified.

In middle school, she had never been good at public speaking. Class presentations left her weak and anxious, and she had dreaded those days when she was required to speak in front of her class. She felt no need to be the center of attention, content instead to remain in the background.

But she had to give presentations. She had to complete assignments, even if she did not like them. What was it her mother had told her?

_Courage is not the absence of fear. Merely the decision that something else is more important._

Of course, it had turned out that her mother was not, in fact, her real mother. She had yet to fully accept everything that she had learned about herself in this short trip to the future. She had been confronted with enough proof to determine that she was apparently a hybrid, and the one-time Queen of Antar. But still…

How could she possibly wrap her head around the fact that everything she had believed in, everything she had known to be true, had actually been a lie?

She was scared.

It was all happening too fast. One moment, she was in the past – which was really her present – content to believe that she was normal teenager trying to figure out her complicated relationship with an extraordinary alien. And now she stood here, beside her family, head held high as was befitting of the queen of a planet. Here she stood, confronting the enemy. _Her_ enemy.

When she had first heard the plan, she had refused. They were expecting her to be this Queen, this remarkable person that she did not even remember. Did it matter that they were asking her to use powers that she had used before in a past life? Did it matter that all they wanted from her was to do something they all _knew_ she was capable of?

No.

Because she could not believe that she was really Ava. What did she have in common with this fierce, intelligent, loyal queen? What did shared DNA matter when she remember little of the past?

Except…

Except she _was_ Ava.

And though she was afraid… there were things in this world that were infinitely more important to her than that fear.

Slowly, determinedly, she reached out and took Max's hand. Their fingers intertwined, linking with each other, and she felt a warmth fill the space between their palms.

She saw Khivar's eyes open wide, saw realization rush through the brown orbs as he knew, in that moment, what she intended to do.

"_Ava! What are you doing?" Zan demanded angrily, rushing towards her side. "Have you lost your mind?"_

_Ava frowned at her husband as she replied, "No, Zan, I have not." There was a clear warning in her tone, something that should have told Zan not to press her on this issue, but it was clear that he was far too worried about her safety to pay attention to her displeasure._

_They stood at the edge of the palace gates, the royal city sloping outwards all around them. But the city did not shine with its usual exuberance, not after the disastrous earthquake that had struck the night before. Much of it was in ruins, and the nearby river still threatened to flood and wash away what little was left._

_Even the palace had not survived unscathed._

_Zan had ordered his soldiers to keep the peace while relief workers rushed about, bringing supplies to the needy, setting up shelters and temporary hospitals, and clearing away debris to locate any missing men, women, and children._

_And Ava was determined to help._

"_The city is not safe," Zan continued breathlessly. He pulled Ava to the side as a stream of soldiers came past, carrying several severely wounded on stretchers. They were using much of the palace as a hospital as well, for though it had been harmed by the earthquake, it was still standing, still clean and dry and relatively safe, whereas all the vast majority of buildings in the city were not._

"_You have sent…"_

"_I have sent soldiers and relief workers," Zan interrupted, "and I have done it reluctantly, and only because I had no other choice. The ground in unsteady, the fumes could be deadly, and debris is still crumbling everywhere. Rath is already out there. I cannot worry about all of my subjects, my soldiers and aide workers, my best friend, and you. I simply can't."_

"_And I cannot sit inside while others suffer," Ava argued desperately. "Don't you understand that?"_

"_And do you think it will be any comfort to anyone if you get injured? Or worse?"_

_Another rush of soldiers passed, this time leading several children. They all appeared to be far too young to have been separated willingly from their children, and Ava felt her heart twisting with pity at the realization that they were probably all orphans now, brought here because there was nowhere else for them to go._

_Those thoughts left her mind quickly, however, as a cry ran through the land around them._

"_The river! It's flooding!"_

_Zan and Ava both turned, eyes wide with horror, and sure enough, they could see in the distance that great rush of water overflowing the steep banks of the river and cascading towards them at an almost unbelievable force. It grew mixing with silt and sand and dirt, turning from a clear liquid into a dirty sludge that threatened to destroy everything in its path._

_It was heading directly for the very center of the city, the most compact, crowded, vulnerable section._

_Ava did not even stop to think. She ran past Zan out of the palace gates and down the cement path that twisted and turned its way through the landscape. Zan gave chase a moment later, easily overtaking her before she had managed to get too far past him, but she did not even pause to give him a second glance._

_He caught her arm, yanking her to a stop. They were out of the gates now, and in the city itself, surrounding on all sides by ruined buildings, shards of brick and glass littering the ground, and a dust that hung heavily in the air._

_The ground started shaking, an aftershock. Ava fell to her hands and knees, inhaling sharply as the land beneath her trembled. It lasted only for a few seconds, but long enough for the distant sound of crumbling stone to indicate the destruction of more buildings, long enough for the earth to crack in places, creating deep rivulets in the ground._

_Long enough to push the rush of flooding water even further, even faster._

_It was upon them, then, smashing into everything in its path. It rose, swelling over the land, drowning out the screams of terrified people as it washed away the remains of the building in its path._

_It was heading straight towards Ava and Zan._

_Without warning, Ava scrambled to her feet and caught Zan's hand, linking her fingers with his. A heat encased her hand, warmth rising through her arm. Zan was staring in wonder at his own hand, confusion obvious in the lines of his face, unable to understand what Ava was doing._

_She didn't really understand it either. She did not know how or why the energy was filling her, but soon it had circled both of them in an aura of pure white light._

_She met Zan's eyes, and for a moment, all time slowed down, stretching outwards all around them._

_Then, as one, they both turned their heads towards the floodwater, and the aura of light left them, spiraling outwards. It slammed into the wall of water, and the air was suddenly scorching hot and heavy with humidity. Everything was white, a blinding color, and Ava could not see anything, could not feel the ground beneath her feet, could not hear the sounds of the city around her._

_All she was aware of what Zan's hand, still tightly linked with hers._

_When the light faded, the water had settled around them. No longer was it a dangerous flood, a tidal wave about to destroy them all. It spread out around her, rising to her knees, soaking the ground as it traveled with soft, gentle waves. The city had been flooded – but without the devastating force that would have destroyed everything._

"_How did you…?" Zan asked, but his words were suddenly stopped as the energy left him, and he lurched forward, falling face-first into the water, submerging underneath._

_Ava made a frantic move to grab him, but she lost balance and stumbled as well, darkness closing in around her on all sides as the effort of what she had done drained all the strength she had._

_Moments later, she was unconscious, and several soldiers stood over her, carefully lifting their king and queen from the water so that they would not drown._

Too late, Khivar saw there was no chance of escape, no way to avoid the power that was now travelling between the two hybrids. Max's eyes had turned black, a black deeper and darker than could be described, but Liz's eyes had gone completely white.

She did not know how it was done, did not even understand what she was doing. But Ava had somehow used this power, somehow managed to draw on the strength of the connection between her and Zan, and use it to stop an entire river's worth of water from destroying the city.

That connection, that bond, it still existed. She just had to find it.

The warmth ran up her arm, emanating into the air around her, and Khivar took a step backwards, lifting a hand to attack, his eyes filling with rage.

She had the power to destroy him, and to destroy every enemy in this place. She could bring the building crumbling down all around them, she could cause the ground beneath her to tremble and shake. She felt as though she could have called the sun down from the sky or caused the Earth to stop spinning if she wanted to.

"_What if she can't control the power?" Kyle had asked nervously, glancing at Liz. "It nearly destroyed Ava and Zan when they used it, and Ava had far more experience with this sort of thing than Liz does."_

She understood the fear, it had scared her as well. If she lost control of what she was doing, if she let it break away from her, or consume her, she could destroy them all. It was part of the reason she had not wanted to agree to this plan, part of the reason she had been so reluctant to do this.

More than that, she did not want to be responsible for killing. If she killed Khivar, she would be deliberately taking another life. This was a war, and Khivar was the enemy, but still…

She did not like the idea of being a killer.

"_She can do it," Maria had said firmly. "This is Liz. She's strong enough, I know she is."_

"_I wish I had your faith," Liz had answered in a low murmur, still unsure._

She still did not have Maria's faith, did not believe in herself as strongly as the pixie blonde did. And yet here she was, standing before Khivar, calling on a power far beyond anything she could comprehend.

"_Just remember," had been Michael's final warning words, "it is not enough to kill Khivar. You have to destroy the entire compound. You have to show his followers, and the entire world, that you won. That we won, and Khivar is nothing anymore."_

Khivar had fallen to his knees as the air around him pulsated with energy. His face was twisted in pain, and Tess was hovering behind him, trying in vain to stop what Liz was about to do. Her dark blue eyes reflected bitter anger and loathing, and something else, something Liz could not identify.

"Enough!" a voice ordered, worry lacing the words. "Stop it!"

With the end of the battle so close, Khivar's life in their hands, Liz thought there was little that could give her pause, little that would make her stop. She turned towards the voice, expecting not to care about the speaker, about whatever it was they wanted.

But then she froze, her concentration broken, power draining from all around her, flooding out of her body and fading into the air.

Because there, in the doorway, stood Isabel, holding Ava tightly in her grasp.


	15. Battle of the Kings part two

Title: When Times Collide

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Summary: When Max and Liz's daughter comes to the past seeking help, two times collide in a desperate race to save the future.

* * *

Chapter Fifteen: Battle of the Kings (part two)

Everything burst into chaos.

Michael opened his mouth to call out a warning to Liz, but it was too late. Her concentration broken by the unexpected appearance of her daughter, Liz could no longer hold onto the focus needed to fight Khivar, and all Michael could do was watch in silent horror as the power exploded from her, filling the air with the hum of electricity.

The energy skidding along the floor, chunks of stone and plaster tearing loose. The windows shattered, shards of glass flying through the air, careening dangerously. A piece embedded itself in Michael's arm, another slashed through the thin material of his shirt and drew blood from his chest. But he felt no pain, registered none of it, as the air around him continued to hum with an intensity and fill with humidity.

The very structure of the compound was shaking, trembling as though on uneven ground.

Michael continued to watch as Liz fell to her knees, as Max stumbled and collapsed at her side, his own energy drawn from him by the link that had formed between himself and Liz. As Ava screamed in fear and desperation, and Isabel released her hold on the young girl and turned frantic eyes towards the uncontrolled power threatening to destroy them all. As Maria's eyes went wide with the realization of what was about to happen, as Khivar took a few fearful steps backward, as Alex raised his hands in a vain attempt to protect them.

As everything went white.

… _burst of laughter, the party in full-swing, women in long rustling skirts swirling across the ballroom floor…_

"_General Rath? May I present Lady Rain, daughter of Duke Asker, brother of the King."_

_*break*_

_She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen… and she hated him on first sight. He groaned as she shoved away from him and marched to the other side of the room, drawing herself into conversation with Queen Ava and Lord Ansem._

_*break*_

"…_I think I am going insane, Zan…"_

"_It is not insanity, Rath. It is love."_

_*break*_

"_Do you love me…?" The words were tentative, as though she was afraid after she said them they would somehow take control of everything. She was looking at him, eyes wide, mouth open, waiting for his answer as though her very life depended on it._

_*break*_

_He swallowed back his fear and held the ring tightly between his fingers, waiting… waiting for her answer._

_*break*_

"_You want my blessing for your marriage to my niece?"_

_Rath swallowed uneasily as King Larek peered down at him from the raised platform were he sat. They were alone in the courtroom, just the two of them underneath the vaulted ceiling, just the two of them with their words echoing through the emptiness._

"_I have already asked her father for her hand in marriage," Rath said, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "He has agreed. But I… she is your niece, your Majesty. Your only niece. And I would like… your… approval… as well."_

_Larek narrowed his gaze, his expression unreadable. "You are not of this planet, General Rath," he said coolly. "Why would I give my approval for my only niece to marry a foreigner when there are so many eligible men here?"_

_Rath hesitated, not entirely sure how to answer. Part of him wanted to say something gentle, something conciliatory, something that would show him to be diplomatic. But the other part wanted to answer honestly, truthfully. He wanted Larek's blessing, but he did not need it. He loved Rain, and nothing would prevent him from marrying her._

_He said firmly, "Antar is not an enemy planet, King Larek. You have ties with King Zan. What reason would you have for refusing me based on my birthplace?"_

"_You are well-liked by the King of Antar," Larek agreed, his voice still cold, still filled with an undisguised dislike. "That is undeniable. And Antar is an ally. But my niece is of royal blood, General Rath. And you are not. Why would I give my blessing for her to marry a foreigner beneath her station?"_

_Rath cringed inwardly, and twisted his hands into fists, fingers biting into his palms and his knuckles went white. It was an insult, what Larek had said, although none of it was untrue. He was of lesser birth than Rain, and his promotion through the ranks was due more to his skill and prowess on the battlefield than to the nobility of his blood. It helped, of course, that he and Zan were friends, but even that could not make up for his birth-status, should Larek choose to focus solely on that._

"_I am a General in King Zan's army," Rath said in a tone of forced calm. "I am likely to become the Second-In-Command once General Cortalis retires from active service. I am not… this would not be a dishonorable marriage for your niece."_

_Larek brought his hands together, fingers interlocked before him, and considered Rath carefully. "And if I forbid the marriage?"_

_This time Rath did flinch, unable to stop the gesture in time. Although he had received blessing on the marriage from Rain's father, should Larek choose to prevent the wedding, there would be little anyone could do to stop it. The Duke Asker would listened to his brother's wishes and change his mind about the marriage, and Rain would be beyond Rath's grasp._

_He lowered his gaze for a moment, thinking. Then, against his better judgment, he lifted dark eyes towards the king and said fiercely, vehemently, "I would marry her anyway. You may be able to prevent the wedding, if you could somehow stop us… but once we are married, you would not be able to undo it. And I would find a way to marry her, no matter what, no matter your feelings. I would find a way."_

_The King raised an eyebrow and said angrily, "Talk like that is dangerous. You could lose your station, General Rath. Defying a king, eloping with royalty despite orders not to do so…? I could argue that is treason, and even your friendship with King Zan could not save you then."_

"_Rain matters more to me than all of that."_

_Larek leaned back in his throne, and for the first time since the audience began, he smiled. It was a smirk more than an honest smile, and there was a look of smugness in his eyes, as though something had amused him. He nodded his head, still regarding Rath would a silent look._

_And then he spoke. "A good answer, General. Anything less than that, and you would certainly not be worthy of my niece's hand in marriage." He rose to his feet and swept down the steps from the dais, his stern gaze never wavering from Rath's face. "And I expect that level of fierce loyalty in everything you do, General. Because there will be those who disapprove of this marriage, and your life will always have challenges. But I expect you to remember this moment, and how much you are willing to sacrifice for her. Do you understand?"_

_Rath barely dared to breath. "Ye-yes."_

"_Good," Larek said, resting his hand on Rath's shoulder. "Then you have my blessing."_

_

* * *

  
_

Everything burst into chaos.

Maria stood frozen, a violent rush of emotions bombarding her. Fear, desperation, panic… they slammed through her defenses and pushed her to her knees. Liz and Max had already collapsed, as had Michael. She tried to tear her gaze away from her husband to look at the others, but somehow her eyes seemed determined to focus only on him. The force of the blast had shoved him backwards, had thrown him bodily into nearby wall. He was bleeding, broken shards of glass embedded in his skin.

She felt something hot on her arms and forced herself to look down, watching as blood spread out along her clothing, large red splotches contrasted against the softer color of the fabric.

She felt faint.

The ceiling above them was crumbling, and she could _feel_ the realizations of the others as, one-by-one, they confronted the possibility of their very imminent death. Max and Liz had both lost consciousness before they could think about it, but she still experienced the sharp twisting in her gut as Kyle felt rage, the heavy depression of Alex's resignation, the terror and bewilderment coming from Ava…

…Michael's helpless fury…

They combined in her chest, forming a knot, something that wrapped itself around her heart and would not loosen. She was only dimly aware of her own pain, both physical and mental, and she paid it little attention even after she realized it was there. It was all she could do to keep afloat, to raise her head above the sea of other people's emotions that threatened to flood over her, to drown her.

The last thing she saw was Ava breaking away from Vilandra and taking a few tentative steps towards her parents…

…and then everything went dark.

"_Maria knows." It was all Liz had to say, the only introduction to the other three aliens she would ever have. Two words, and everyone seemed to grow angrier, darker._

"_Unbelievable," Michael muttered._

_*break*_

…_the sound of tires spinning on pavement, the endless expanse of a blue sky, the heat of the desert…_

"_I'm borrowing your car. Now get out."_

"_You're telling me to get out? This is my car. Actually, it's my mother's car, and if anything happens to it, life as I know it will be over. So, wherever it goes, I go."  
"Fine. You had your chance."_

"_Oh my God! You're kidnapping me. No, wait, you're abducting me."_

_*break*_

"_I want to break up," she whispered, the words catching in her throat as she forced them out. She couldn't look at him, because if she did, it would be her undoing. "I want out because I love you so much. I love you more than you could possibly know."_

"_I'm lost."_

_*break*_

_A war was coming._

_There was no denying that now, though Maria supposed she'd one her best over the past few months to convince herself that there was a way out of this. There wasn't, not now, not anymore. That much had been made clear, and still she wished that she could close her eyes and it would all somehow miraculously disappear._

_Life didn't work like that._

_Tears stained her cheeks as she turned away from the grave site. Death should not have surprised her, certainly not this one. Hadn't Khivar already threatened that he would tear them apart? Hadn't he promised to bring their world crumbling down around them, to destroy it before their very eyes?_

_Still…_

_Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the others. Max and Liz, standing side-by-side, Max with his arm wrapped tightly around Liz's thin shoulders. Isabel was at his other side, and Alex stood behind her, one hand resting gently on her elbow as though afraid if he lost contact she would be taken from him. On the other side of Liz was Tess, with Kyle's arms wrapped around her._

_And Michael._

_They'd all lost family, and her mother's death was only the latest in a string of others, each one more devastating than the last. The Parkers, the Evans, the Whitmans… They'd fooled themselves into thinking they could protect their human parents, fooled themselves into thinking they still had time. Time for all the I-love-yous and everything else that mattered._

_Time to ask all the necessary questions, like how could you never tell us that we were aliens?_

_They didn't have time anymore._

_Khivar had made sure of that._

"_Maria?" Liz was at her side then, concern in her eyes. Maria forced a smile that did not reach her eyes and nodded, and Liz said, "It's time to go."_

_She looked back at the grave, the fresh mound of dirt under which her mother – the only one she really remembered – was buried. Her eyes burned and her throat felt thick, like it was lined with dry cotton. She nodded again, but made no move to leave._

"_Maria?" This time it was Alex. She didn't meet his blue gaze, but continued to stare at the grave until she felt a pair of arms tightening around her._

_And looked up to find Michael staring down at her._

_He'd never been one for talking, his usual taciturn silence covering him. But in his eyes, she saw reflected all the things he would never say. All the things she'd never needed him to say, because hadn't she known them all along?_

_His arms tightened, drawing her forward, and she followed him away from the grave site._

_Towards the war she knew was coming._

_

* * *

  
_

Everything burst into chaos.

For Ava, it was too much to really register. Her mind seemed perpetually stuck on what she had discovered, what she could not even begin to comprehend. The building shook around her, the air heavy and tense, and yet despite the crescendo of noise and motion and color, all she could do was think about Isabel.

Aunt Isabel.

Aunt Isabel who was dead.

Supposedly.

How many times had she been lied to? How many times had the truth been kept a secret, locked away from her as though she was not deserving of that knowledge? Had everyone known the truth? Was it all some great conspiracy, all the adults lying, plotting together to keep her in the dark?

Even as the world burst into a frenzy all around her, though, she noticed something else, something new. Standing behind Khivar, blue eyes wide with horror, was yet another figure that looked so familiar… blue eyes, blonde hair, petite frame…

"Auntie Tess?"

That person standing before her was most certainly Tess. But she could not focus on it, on everything it meant, for long. She had somehow torn free from Isabel's grasp and taken a few steps forward, her gaze going from Tess and Khivar to her parents, both of whom had fallen to the ground.

And then the floor beneath her shook, reverberating with tremor and tremor, and she threw out her hands, trying desperately to stay standing.

A chunk of stone fell from the ceiling and careened through the air, smashing into the ground only inches from her. She jumped aside, exhaling sharply in fear, and felt her heart suddenly slam into her chest, pumping wildly as adrenaline coursed through her body.

Reacting instinctively, she threw out both hands and raised above her a shield. The force-field shimmered in the air above her, colors flashing before her eyes as she struggled to keep it raised, to extend it outwards towards the others.

Pain lanced sharply through her, and she glanced down long enough to see blood dripping down around her feet. But the shield flickered, threatening to fall, and she snapped her attention back towards the task at hand, ignoring the dull ache spreading through her body, the burning sensation mixed with a warmth that signaled blood spilling from her.

She wasn't sure how far the shield had spread, wasn't sure how many people she was protecting. The ceiling had caved in completely, and chunks of stone rained down upon her, each one threatening to finally pierce the force-field that kept them safe. A moment later she was forced to her knees, both arms still raised, the energy glowing above her, sending eerie washes of light out through the remains of the destroyed room.

The entire compound had collapsed, of that she was dimly aware. She could hear it, the thundering as ceilings crashed to the ground, as the walls gave in and tumbled forward, littering debris over the ground.

What had her mother been doing?

She was positive that whatever was currently causing Khivar's base to dissolve all around her had originated with her mother, but she had no idea exactly what it had been. She had not seen a display of that kind of strength, ever, and it was odd to think that her mother had been that powerful.

How much longer would she have to hold on? Her vision was growing dark at the edges, blurring as her eyes swam with tears and her body threatened to gave way completely. Above her, she could see a few streaks of sky, a signal that the place had been almost entirely destroyed.

She inhaled, her arms shaking, the force-field trembling.

Every last bit of strength was forced into staying conscious, staying focused, pushing each moment longer and longer, until…

Until her body could not stand it any longer, and she toppled forward, slipping into unconsciousness, the force-field fading from above her, the last remains of the crumbling ceiling falling down on her.

_

* * *

  
_

Isabel opened her eyes slowly, blinking into the bright light. The sun shone down on the rubble all around her, and pain shot back and forth through her legs, her right arm, and her head. She groaned and tried to move, then realized she was stuck underneath a slab of concrete.

"Where am I?" she groaned.

The pain hadn't quite penetrated the fog around her mind, so though she knew she was hurt, it had yet to really bother her. Instead, she blinked and tried to understand what was happening, to figure out where she was and how she had gotten there, to push away the layers of confusion that covered her thoughts.

Everything was a blur.

With great effort, she pushed the concrete away from her, struggling to pull herself to her hands and knees. It was hot out, the sun heating the cement all around her, burning her skin as she placed her palm down on the stone to push herself upwards. She hissed in pain and felt her leg twist under her, giving way.

She collapsed forward, rolling briefly to her side. She was still trapped in the rubble, and the pain was spreading now, growing more and more, becoming almost unbearable.

Then she saw, before her, another body. It was a girl, a young teenager. She was unconscious, sprawled underneath a mound of stone fragments and chunks. She was lying on her stomach, her face hidden by her hair, blood pooled around her.

Isabel blinked. The girl looked familiar, but she could not place her, could not quite figure out who she was.

She looked around again.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the bright light, but then, peering carefully, she could discern her surroundings. A compound of some kind had clearly collapsed around her, covering the entire place with rubble. It stretched in every direction all around her, far enough that she had to squint to determine where the outline of the building ended and the grounds began. The grounds were beautiful, or, at least, they must have been beautiful before the building had collapsed. Trees dotted the landscape, but their twisted branches were charged as though a great wave of energy had exploded near them. The flowers she could see looked dried and shriveled, destroyed or dying. Whatever had happened, it had left nothing untouched.

But why couldn't she remember?

She pushed herself forward again, struggling to free her legs from the slab of stone. It took several seconds of straining, of pulling and pushing and prodding with all her might, and when she finally broke loose, she immediately went toppling forward, breathless and in pain.

Everything hurt. That sensation had burst into the front of her consciousness, and now refused to let go. It wrapped around her, pumping through her veins, strangling her heart and lungs. The throbbing, the aches… they grew in intensity, blocking out everything else.

She needed a healer.

"Max," she whispered.

"_How can you? How can you just walk away? You are my sister!" Desperation, pleading. Helpless anger, fear, loss._

_Cold eyes, cold words. "I'm his wife, not your sister."_

And everything came flooding back.

_Tess, reaching out her hand, leading Isabel away from the safety of the others…_

…_a strange presence in her mind, and then everything changed, shifted on her side, and Isabel was forgotten…_

_*break*_

"_Hello, love." Khivar stood before her, his arms outstretched, and she did not hesitate to walk into his embrace. Tess, who had been standing behind him, smiled at Isabel and nodded her head, before turning and slipping from the room, leaving them alone._

"_Hello, Khivar," she said softly, resting her head on his shoulder._

"_Welcome home."_

_*break*_

"…_grand wedding for the entire planet to see. Don't you want that, Lonnie darling?" Khivar asked, gesturing with one hand towards the expansive of ballroom he had chosen for their wedding reception. "Don't you want the world to know how much I love you?"_

_She smiled and kissed him. "If you want it, Khivar. Whatever pleases you."_

_*break*_

"_What do you want from me?" she asked, running her fingers lightly over his arm. "Tell me, and I'll have it done."_

_He caught her hand, wove his own fingers through hers and held it tightly. "There is something I want," he said slowly. "Or rather… someone."_

"Ava."

Isabel whispered the name and turned back towards the body of the young teenager. Ava. Max's daughter. Her niece.

She had gone into that battle, had taken her niece – kidnapped her – and brought her here. To this place. To Khivar.

To _Khivar_.

Their enemy.

For Khivar, she had turned on her brother, turned away from Max, betrayed him. For Khivar, she had left Michael, left Maria and Liz, Kyle… For Khivar, she'd walked away from Alex.

From Vilandra.

Her daughter.

Underneath the hot sun, she slumped forward, tears stinging at her eyes as the memories came back, flooding her awareness, slamming into her with an intensity she could not block. Each image emblazoned itself into her mind, refusing to let go, to give her any peace. She had betrayed them all, attacked them, killed their allies, hurt their friends…

She'd been on Khivar's side, at his side, this entire time. Even when Khivar killed Max and Liz. She hadn't left. Hadn't care enough to walk away after her own brother's murder…

"Oh, God," she breathed, horrified. "What have I done?"


	16. Of Grief and Guilt

Title: When Times Collide

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Summary: When Max and Liz's daughter comes to the past, two times collide in a desperate race to save the future.

* * *

Chapter Sixteen: Of Grief and Guilt

For a moment, it seemed as though Isabel would do nothing. She just sat there, staring blankly at the scene around her, images playing through her tired mind. Sensations rushed over her body – pain and heat and the memory of Khivar's hands on her arms – throwing her mind into a frenzied chaos. Tears streaked down her face, saltwater mixing with blood and dust, creating dark rivulets that dripped to the hot cement around her.

Then Ava sighed.

It was soft, just the gentle exhale of air, faint and nearly nonexistent. But it was enough to tear Isabel from her self-induced frozen shock, and she turned towards her niece, eyes widening slightly.

Ava wasn't dead?

She'd thought they were all dead, because how could anyone survive what had happened? The crash of a ceiling falling, the burning heat from uncontrolled energy, the inescapable end as everything came toppling on to them, burying them beneath the stone.

They should have been dead. They shouldn't have been able to survive that. _She_ shouldn't have been able to survive it, not after everything that had happened, not after everything she had done.

But Ava shifted, still unconscious, yet still obviously alive.

That galvanized Isabel into action. She forced herself forward, half crawling, half-dragging her injured body over the uneven ground. Reaching out, she pushed away the loose tendrils of Ava's hair – dark brown streaked with bleached-blonde– and rested her fingers lightly on the younger girl's forehead. Her skin was cool to the touch, but damp with sweat. A smear of blood stretched down one side of the girl's face, marring her otherwise pale skin. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, and her eyes fluttered behind closed lids.

"Ava?" Isabel whispered. She began to push at the stone and marble covering her niece, shoving with all her might against it. Slowly, painstakingly, the debris shifted, and Isabel was able to pull Ava partially free of the twisted and charred remains of the building.

She took a slow breath, her lungs fighting for oxygen. The throbbing was steadily increasing, shifting now into a more intense burn, and every breath was a difficult battle, every moment was a struggle not to give in to the heaviness of her eyelids and a weariness that wanted to pull her into sleep.

"Ava?" Isabel said again, a choked whisper.

There was no response from the younger girl.

Isabel pulled herself onto her knees and stared at the girl. Ava's legs were still trapped underneath a large, jagged piece of the ceiling. The rest of her body was clear, but that only served to display the jagged wounds that crossed back and forth over her chest and arms. A quick glance told Isabel that none of them were deep enough to be fatal – but all of them combined could certainly be enough to cause Ava to bleed to death.

She needed help.

Quickly.

Ava groaned suddenly, and turned, her upper body rolling onto her side, twisting at the waist.

"Ava?" Isabel tried again. "Ava, can you hear me?"

Pale eyes fluttered, lids momentarily lifting to stare at the sky.

With a speed that defied the aches she felt, Isabel scrambled forward so that she was in front of Ava, directly in the teenager's line of vision. "Ava?" she whispered, hardly daring to hope, yet still praying fervently. "Ava, look at me. Do you know where you are? Ava? Can you hear me?"

"Hurts," Ava whimpered.

"I know," Isabel replied, a fresh wave of guilt hitting her. "Just… hold on, okay? Hold on, sweetie."

Ava's eyes seemed to wander unfocused for a moment, then they landed on Isabel. Tears pooled around her lashes, and her unsteady gaze was clouded with pain. "Aunt Isabel?" she whispered.

"I'm here," Isabel said, feeling both awe and disquiet at how easily the words fell from her lips. It did not seem strange at all to have this child calling her "Aunt," did not seem strange to respond with words of comfort and promises she was not sure she could keep. "I'm right here. I'm going to fix this."

But how? How could she fix this? Even if she could somehow save Ava from dying trapped in the destroyed building, how could she ever fix everything else? What she had done… it went far beyond fixing.

"Mommy? Daddy?" Ava whispered.

Isabel winced and looked away quickly, praying Ava would not see the truth in her eyes. She glanced towards the other bodies and swallowed back the urge to break down into tears. They were all still, lifelessly sprawled across the rubble… her friends, her family… lives _she_ had destroyed.

It was obvious that Ava was not thinking clearly. The shock and pain of her injuries had taken away her ability to process anything, to understand where she was or what had happened. Her gaze kept roaming away, and occasionally her lids would drop shut, a slow exhale escaping her lips. Her breathing was uneven, still so shallow, and Isabel watched her for a moment, unsure what to do.

Then Ava murmured, "Aunt Isabel… you're hurt." And she reached out with one hand, her fingers grazing Isabel's skin.

_Khivar loomed above her, his expression gloating and triumphant. "Well, well, well… little Ava. Ready to see your parents again?"_

_She closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall. "I wish… I wish I knew what it felt like. To not be at war. Wouldn't that be nice, Zan? To not live in the shadow of all this death?"_

"_Ava, get back!" Michael's voice, rough with fear, cut through the sounds of fighting as the battle raced onwards._

_The hum of the Granolith, energy that swirled all around her, flickering, glowing, vibrating… and sending her to the past._

The flashes were gone almost as soon as they had come, and Isabel straightened with a jolt. Ava was staring at her with horror now, the confusion gone from her eyes. It had been replaced by clear realization, by fear and disgust, and it was the last of those emotions that froze Isabel to the bone.

She supposed she could not blame Ava, given everything. And yet, it was hard to see that disgust, to know that Ava felt the same way Isabel felt about herself.

"Ava," she started, her words choked. "Ava, I…"

"Don't touch me," Ava spat, eyes narrowing, glittering with fury. She tried to pull away from Isabel, but was still partially trapped by the cement slab, and only served to twist her body at an odd angle, increasing the pressure on her already injured body. She winced in pain, a low hiss escaping her lips, but continued to glare at Isabel, refusing to let any sign of weakness show on her face.

It was then that Isabel realized she felt no pain. She looked down at her body and found the injuries gone, though her clothes were still covered in the red stain of blood. It took her a moment to figure out what had happened, but when she did, all the pieces seemed to fall into place.

"You're a healer," she said, giving Ava an incredulous stare.

Which explained why Isabel had seen flashes of Ava's life when the younger alien had touched her. It hadn't been just a touch – Ava had been healing her. And those flashes were part of the connection that had to form between two people – the healer and the victim. Which meant that while Isabel had seen bits of Ava's life, Ava had seen bits of hers…

Had Ava seen as Isabel fell into Khivar's arms? Had she seen how her aunt laughed and smiled with happiness and love for their worst enemy? Had she seen the callous betrayal, the utter lack of caring for anyone but herself and her love?

"I thought you were dead," Ava said quietly, bitterly. "They told us you were dead. You and Auntie Tess." Tears were welling in her eyes, and she blinked rapidly as though to keep them at bay. "But you aren't dead. You never were…" She trailed off, her words growing quiet.

Isabel felt as though she had been slapped in the face. Is this what had happened, then? The others had been so harmed by her betrayal that they had been forced to lie to their children? Did Vilandra believe that as well, did she think her mother had died?

She tried in vain to remember the conversation she had had with her daughter during the battle, but everything was jumbled in her mind, and she could not moved past the numbing horror that settled over her. She had seen her daughter, had looked Vilandra in the eyes and not recognized her. She might have killed her own daughter, had she not been so intent on bringing Ava to Khivar.

How could she have let this happen?

Ava turned away from Isabel and extended her hand towards the concrete slab. For a moment, her expression tightened, and it was obvious that she was pulling all of her strength together, forcing herself to find the courage necessary to proceed with the task at hand.

Then her fingers glowed momentarily, and the slab exploded into fragments that hovered in midair, frozen in place.

Isabel gaped. "Kyle could make things explode, and Al…Alex could freeze them," she whispered, stumbling over Alex's name. "You can do both? _And_ heal?"

Ava didn't answer. Instead, she struggled to pull herself away from the shards of stone before her freezing abilities wore off and everything continued to explode. But though she was no longer trapped by the cement, she still was too injured to move well, and only ended up doubling over in pain, tears bursting from her eyes and cascading down her cheeks.

Isabel was at her side in a moment, lifting her gently from the ground. She was light, Isabel noted, barely weighed anything at all. She seemed to be in too much pain at the moment to realize that it was Isabel helping her, and so she made no protest as Isabel carried her away from the the place were she had been sprawled only moments before.

And it was not a second too soon, as the stone shards suddenly continued their rapid and dangerous careening, flying outward through the air before eventually falling down amidst the rest of the rubble.

Ava opened her eyes again, and blinked blearily at Isabel. The fury was not quite as strong, though the distaste and suspicion were still there. "My parents…?" she asked.

Isabel took a slow breath, trying to calm her frantically beating heart. How could she explain this? Her throat was suddenly dry as she tried to force out the words, "Ava… the building… it collapsed…" She let her gaze wander towards the bodies that she could see, the limbs poking through rubble, skin displaying cuts and bruises.

Ava followed her gaze. "We have to help them," she said, her voice strangely devoid of emotion. Isabel easily recognized the emptiness as shock, and winced at Ava's choice of coping mechanism. Shock might dull the pain now, but it would only make things worse later, when the denial faded and she had to face the truth.

"Ava… they're not… we can't help them."

"No." It started out as just a whisper, and then Ava's voice was stronger, more sure. "No! They're not… they're alive. I know they're alive. They _have_ to be."

Isabel shook her head as she looked at the ruins all around them. "No one could have survived this."

Ava replied pointedly, stubbornly, "We did."

Isabel opened her mouth to argue, and then frowned and remained silent. She and Ava had been relatively lucky, something had protected them from most of the building's ceiling. A quick glance at the other bodies had been enough to reveal that they had not been so lucky, and probably had far worse injuries that would have killed them instantly.

But could it hurt to look? Ava certainly wanted proof badly enough, and after everything Isabel had done, could she deny her niece that?

"Wait here," she ordered, although it was a pointless demand given that Ava was too injured to move. Climbing to her feet, she picked her way cautiously over the uneven terrain, moving towards the still bodies of the rest of her family. Tears burned her eyes as she tried to prepare herself for what she was about to see. But how could she ever be prepared to pull the bricks and stones off the bodies of her brother? Her husband?

She dropped to her knees before the first body, an arm that stuck out partially from among a mess of blood-covered stone. Pushing with all her might, she managed to knock aside a few rocks and rubble, revealing tan skin with mottled bruises, dark hair falling over closed eyes…

Max's face.

For a moment, all she could do was stare. Frozen in place, unable to think. Her mouth went dry, and she bit down against the bitter taste of loss in her mouth. Tears slid down her cheeks, salty and hot. "Max…?"

"_You're insufferable."_

_She rolled her eyes and turned away from the mirror, a radiant smile on her face. "Come on, Max! I'm getting married. Can't you at least _pretend_ to be interested in this?"_

_Max frowned, folding his arms over his chest. "To be interested in what shade of lipstick goes best with the dress?" he repeated incredulously. "Izzy, the dress is _white_. Wouldn't anything go with that?"_

"_You are hopeless," Isabel muttered, shaking her head._

"_Well then why don't you ask Liz or Maria or Tess? You know, someone who is actually female? Someone who cares about lipstick colors…?" She pouted and he laughed. "What do you want from me? You _know_ I'm no good at this."_

"_But you're my brother," she replied. "Your opinion matters to me."_

_He sighed, a long-suffering sigh. "The uh…" he pointed towards one of the colors, "what is that? Bamboo Pink? That one, that's what you should wear."_

She reached out and gently touched his faze, her fingers tracing the outline of a faded bruise across his cheek. His skin was warm to the touch, and soft, not yet made cold by the passage of time. But even as she noted that, a thought wandered through the back of her mind, a puzzle she could not answer. Max and Liz were both dead, she knew that. Khivar had killed them… so how were they here?

She slid her hand down his arm, reaching towards his wrist. Her fingers closed over his skin, and then…

Her breath caught in her throat, and she stilled completely, not sure she could completely trust what she had felt. Was it just her mind playing tricks on her, some dream that she was trying to will into reality? Or perhaps a nightmare, sending her something she wanted, only to have it snatched away quickly?

Because she had felt… a pulse?

"Max?"

Over her shoulder, she called out to Ava. "Can you move the rocks from his body?"

Ava was far enough away that she could not see Max's body, but Isabel saw the realization in her niece's eyes, the understanding that she would only really be asking for that if there was still a chance of saving whoever it was. The younger girl frowned, her expression clouding with determination and concentration, and reached out with one hand.

The rubble trapping Max in place began to shake, and then it exploded, blasting into the air. Isabel instinctively ducked, but the fragments froze midair before her, and she straightened cautiously. Then, moving as quickly as she could, she raced to extract her brother's beaten body from the wreckage.

"Daddy?" Ava murmured as she saw Max's head come into view. "Is he…?"

"He's alive," Isabel said as she checked his pulse again, then half-carried, half-dragged his lanky body back towards Ava. "He's alive," she repeated, and her body was suddenly weak with relief.

* * *

The first sensation that slowly worked its way into his consciousness was pain. An all-consuming pain that covered everything, seeping into his bones, spreading from his fingers to his toes. He blinked as a few soft voices washed over him, calling to him. But try as he might, he could not see through the cloudy haze of pain that kept him seperated from the rest of the world.

"Alex…? Alex, come on…? Can you hear me?"

He blinked again, focusing on tawny eyes that appeared above him. Then the world lurched sideways around him, and he felt nauseous.

_A flash of something, lights, points of white illuminated against a dark background._

"_She's our daughter." The words – Liz's words – still echoed in the silence, and he felt a rush of disbelief. It didn't seem possible, how could he have a daughter?_

_The Resistance Base, people staring at him with awe and something else in their gazes, and he had no idea what to do, how to react. What did they want from him, and what would happen if he wasn't able to deliver it?_

As the flashes – bits of Max's life – faded from his view, Alex swallowed uneasily and reached up with one hand to rub his eyes. The fog in his vision cleared, and he found Maria leaning over him, her worried face instantly brightening with relief.

"It worked! Max healed him," she said, calling over her shoulder to someone he couldn't see.

"Of course it worked," he heard Max mutter, and then the hybrid King came into view beside Maria. "Did you think I would fail? I have done this before."

Maria glared at him and remarked, "It took you forever to heal him. Longer than it took you to heal Liz or Michael."

Max rolled his eyes. "He was more gravely injured," he replied, defending himself. Then, to Alex, he said, "Welcome back to the land of the living."

Alex licked his lips. "Thanks," he murmured, pushing himself up into a sitting position and noting that the pain was mostly gone. All that remained was the faint leftover ache, a phantom pain, a reminder of the injuries that were now gone. He looked around, and saw Liz standing near Ava, one arm wrapped protectively around her daughter. Kyle had his back to the others, his gaze towards the distant landscape, clearing keeping his eyes open for any approaching dangers. Michael was standing to Alex's left, talking quietly to…

"Isabel?"

"Yeah," Max murmured, keeping his voice low. "It's Isabel. It's _really_ her."

"But… how?" Alex questioned incredulously, rising to his feet. He shook a little, unsteady, and had to grab onto Maria for support. She gripped his arm in response, giving him a smile, and that was when he noticed what they were standing on – the ruins of the entire compound.

Liz had destroyed it. Brought the entire place crumbling down.

Isabel turned towards him, her beautiful eyes filled with a dozen emotions. She took a step towards him, but then stopped, and Michael reached out to catch her arm. Alex wasn't sure if Michael was holding her back or supporting her, and he didn't really care. At that moment, all he wanted was to wrap his arms around Isabel and hold her close, never let her out of his sight.

And yet, it still seemed so unfathomable. How could she be herself again?

"What happened?" he asked, loud enough for the others to hear.

It was Maria who answered. "Best we can tell is that Ava put up a shield to protect us when the building fell. She and Isabel were the least injured, although they were still both hurt pretty bad. But the shield covered the rest of us as well, at least for a little bit. Kept us alive. Isabel pulled Ava out, and then they got Max, and then the rest of us." There was a slight pause, and Maria slanted a look at Michael and said hesitantly, "Laurie didn't… we, uh… we couldn't get to her…" She trailed off and didn't finish the stammered sentence, but the tightening of Michael's features, the way his jaw clenched, was enough to tell Alex what Maria was trying to say.

"I'm sorry…" he whispered, but those two words could not encompass what he really wanted to say. He knew that there was nothing that would ease the pain for Michael, would make the loss of his human sister easier to bear.

And then he glanced at Kyle, and something else occurred to him.

"Tess…?"

Again, it was Maria who answered. She didn't meet his gaze as she said, "Ava's force-field didn't extend far enough… it couldn't reach her and Khivar… So they're both… um… somewhere… beneath all this." Behind Maria, Kyle inhaled sharply, and when he finally turned around to face Alex, his eyes were smoldering with fury and grief.

Alex found himself unable to look away from Kyle, from the pain there. What was it Khivar had told them? That the only way to save Isabel would be to kill Tess? That hadn't been what they had intended, any of them, but Isabel was here now, and that could only mean on thing.

Tess was dead.

Maria hugged Alex suddenly, and he wobbled, surprised. He was touched by her obvious relief that he was alive, but it wasn't until he heard her voice whispering into her ear that he realized that her real intentions were to confide in him without the others noticing.

"I don't like what I'm sensing from Kyle."

He gave her a questioning look as she drew back, but she just shook her head and gave him a warning look. He slanted a quick glance at Kyle, trying to read the other's face. There was anger there, but Alex had no idea who the anger was directed towards, and that was worrisome.

He knew he should talk to Kyle, should say something, anything. But he looked again at Isabel, and seeing Isabel, _his_ wife, staring back at him… it drove all other thoughts from his mind.

"Alex…" Isabel started, and he moved towards her automatically. She was crying, tears creating lines that ran down her face, her eyes rimmed with red that was only accentuated by the dark circles under her eyes and the pale white of her skin, so colorless. Her lower lip quivered, and a sob caught in her throat, escaping softly.

He was at her side in a moment, catching her hand with his. He reached up and touched her cheek, his fingers brushing feather-light against her skin. She was staring at him, her face open, not façade, no mask.

And yet…

Alex couldn't read her expression.

He'd always been able to read her before, to decipher whatever complex set of thoughts were drifitng around in her mind. Granted, it _had_ taken him a while to pick up that skill, and he'd failed miserably at it while they were still in high school. But after they graduated, after they found out the truth about who they were, after he had become more comfortable with himself, with his past, and with the person he wanted to be, the connection between them had been so strong that he needed only to glance at her to know everything she was thinking.

This Isabel might be his wife again, and no longer that person who had willingly gone along with everything Khivar had wanted, without hesitation, without a single thought for her family. This Isabel might be the one he fell in love with, but…

But this Isabel was also a stranger.

_

* * *

  
_

The headache would not go away.

Maria hadn't really expected it to. At this point, she knew the strengths and weaknesses of her powers enough to predict what would happen in a situation like this. The problem with being able to sense another's emotions was the inevitable trap of being sucked into what they were feeling, the good and the bad.

Isabel's emotions were a mess. The guilt was heavy and thick, covering everything like a heavy blanket. It weighed down heavily on Maria, and she could not block it out, could not ignore it. It screamed at her, demanding to be noticed, demanding to be recognized.

Underneath the guilt were other emotions, pain and grief and horror. And anger, a flashing, dangerous anger that was directed with fierce fury at Khivar and all the other skins who had done this to her, who had taken away everything she wanted. There were also moments of fear, fear and confusion and uneasy worry about what the future might bring, about how she would be welcomed back by the others.

That, Maria knew, was a valid fear. She had no idea how the rest of the world would respond to Isabel's reappearance. They knew who she was, but her relationship to Max and Alex had never been explained to the general public, so they only saw her as Khivar's wife, Khivar's love, Khivar's supporter. They would not welcome her back with open arms.

They would not welcome her back at all.

The war wasn't over, not really. Khivar was dead, but that wasn't enough. The world would have to be rebuilt, and Maria had no doubt that this would not be easy.

And Isabel would be trapped in the middle of it.

Those kinds of thoughts only made the headache worse. It was throbbing now, a dull pain that thudded in her head, refusing to give her any peace. She didn't like worrying so much about the future, but her ability to sense other people's emotions meant that she was often the only one who really understood what was coming, what was about to happen. She knew, better than most, how people reacted – emotionally and physically – to any variety of situations.

And this would not be pretty.

She wanted to protect Isabel. Even after everything that had happened, everything Isabel had done, she had never blamed the other hybrid. It wasn't Isabel's fault, she hadn't been herself at the time. She was as much a victim of Khivar's plotting as the rest of them were, and Maria had clung to that belief even when Max and Liz had died. And even now that Laurie was gone And Tess.

But she wasn't sure if she could protect Isabel. Not from the rest of the world, and not from herself. Isabel obviously did not see herself as a victim, and was a long way away from forgiving herself for what she had done. Until that happened, there was nothing anyone could say to ease the guilt, and Maria knew that that guilt would eat Isabel up, destroying her from the inside.

And yet… all of that, all of the worry and concern for Isabel and for the rest of the world was nothing compared to what she felt when she was struck by Kyle's emotions.

Anger, she could have accepted. Fury, rage, wrath. Any of those emotions would have been fine, would have been appropriate responses to losing his wife… again. Denial would have almost been a relief, as would bargaining or depression. It was far too soon for any form of acceptance, and that was fine as well.

But hatred?

She didn't like that.

She couldn't figure out exactly where it was coming from or where it was going. It hung over him, an aura, a cloud, dark and threatening. It didn't seem to be based in anything concrete, but fed on itself, getting worse with every passing moment.

Was it hatred for Khivar, for putting them in this position? Was it directed at Ava, for not being able to save Tess when she had saved all the others, or Isabel, for surviing when Tess had died? Or was it meant for the rest of them, for not coming up with a different plan, a plan that didn't put his wife in harm's way?

Or perhaps hatred for himself, for the fact that he had not been able to save Tess?

Even when they had all blamed Tess for everything, not yet realizing that she was under Khivar's control… even then, Kyle's emotions had never felt like this. It was as though Tess' death had taken everything from him, including all the control he had once had. It was gone now, drifting away, and he was left with only bitter hatred.

Underneath it, she could sense the faint outlines of other emotions, of grief and loss and pain. But they were slight, small, and not comparable hatred.

It scared her.

And it gave her a headache.

She felt, rather than saw, Michael standing behind her. Tendrils of concern wrapped through his mind, concern for all of them, but also specifically for her. She turned to face him, pushing aside stone and brick with her feet as she moved closer.

"How is she?" Michael asked, and Maria knew he was referring to Isabel, to her emotional state.

"A mess," Maria replied, her voice low to keep the others from hearing. She ran a hand through her hair and sighed, exhaling slowly. "A complete and total mess."

"And the others?"

"Max and Liz are mostly just relieved to be alive, and to have Ava safe. Ava is confused, angry, hurt. She feels betrayed." A ghost of an ironic smile pulled at her lips, turning the ends slightly upwards. "I guess being kidnapped by her aunt probably wasn't the best way for her to find out the truth about Isabel." _And the truth about Tess_, she thought silently to herself, although she did not say that aloud.

"Alex, Kyle?" Michael prompted.

"Alex is… confused. Worried. Scared. And… optimistic," she said slowly, picking the list of emotions carefully. He was her best friend, and she did not want to ever say anything bad about him, but she could tell that Alex wasn't thinking about the situation clearly. He seemed to think that as long as Isabel was back, everything else could be handled easily enough. He wasn't thinking realistically about the future.

Michael noticed the hesitation, and she could tell by the way his eyes narrowed and he glanced over at Alex, a quick, would-be casual movement of the head, that he had picked up on her concern.

He'd also obviously noticed the fact that she had not answered his question about Kyle.

But he did not press the issue. Instead, he said, "How are you?"

"Headache. Nothing that won't pass. But it will get worse before it gets better." She rubbed her eyes with the back of one hand. "It always does."

Michael nodded, then raised his voice so the others could hear him, "We need to get back to the Resistance Base. Khivar is dead, his strong-hold destroyed. We have only a limited amount of time to take advantage of this, but if we play our cards right, we could end this war. For good."

Maria rested her hand on his arm and asked quietly, curiously, "How exactly are we going to do that?"

He gave her an indecipherable look, and then said, "I haven't got a clue."

"And how are we going to tell the others? They're going to want to know why we are bringing Isabel back… And what about Skylar and Vilandra? Zan?"

It was Skylar in particular she was worried about. His temper was volatile, quick to explode, and usually ill-controlled. Tess had always been a sensitive subject for him, and the appearance of Max and Liz had only made the issue worse. He did his best not to show it, at least not since the first argument with Ava, but it hurt him to know that she got to see her parents, and he did not get to see his mother.

It would be even harder for him now, having Isabel coming back, and Tess still gone. The truth would be difficult enough, but to find out that she had been alive for all these years, and now she was dead? To find out that he had missed any opportunity he would ever have to see her, to talk to her?

Maria frowned. She was _very_ worried about him.

Michael shrugged, rubbed the back of his head absently with one hand. "Cross each bridge when we get there," he muttered. "Right now, the important thing is to get back before we run across any more enemies."

"And then what?" Maria pressed, a little exasperated. "Do you even have a plan?"

Michael raised an eyebrow. "Do you?" he asked pointedly.

She scowled at him, and looked away. For a moment, he was quiet, and she could feel his frustration. He was making no attempt to hide that particular emotion from her, and she rolled her eyes at his actions. But then the frustration slowly began to change to concern, and she felt his hand on her shoulder.

"Maria?" he asked softly, an unspoken question in his voice. He wanted to know what had her so much on edge, what was upsetting her. He could somehow tell it was more than just the battle, the death of Tess and the reappearance of the real Isabel. More than just the fact that they had almost died, all of them. More than just the uncertainty of the future.

So why was she so afraid? What did she sense?

She looked for a moment at Kyle, then let her gaze wander over the others, pausing again on Alex and Isabel. Then she looked at Michael and shook her head. "I don't know, Michael. I honestly don't know."


	17. Because You Loved Me

Title: When Times Collide

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Summary: When Max and Liz's daughter comes to the past, two times collide in a desperate race to save the future.

* * *

Chapter Seventeen: Because You Loved Me

A few miles before they reached the Resistance Base, Michael stopped the vehicle and climbed out into the hot desert sun. The others followed his lead, although they seemed a little unsure as to why he wanted to stop, particularly given that he was the one who had insisted they get back to the Base as soon as possible.

He looked around at the others, his friends, his _family_. They had parked near the shade of some cliffs. Isabel was perched on the edge of an outcropping of rocks, her arms folded in around herself. She looked exhausted, but the other emotions underneath the surface of her face were too hard to determine. She had her gaze lowered, eyes averted so that she would not have to look at anyone else.

Michael sighed. Alex was standing behind Isabel, close enough that he could have reached out and hugged her. But he hadn't. As far as Michael knew, Alex hadn't interacted with Isabel at all, not since seeing her when they first woke up after the building collapsed. The hybrid General didn't know why, didn't know what was keeping Alex distant from his wife when it was so clear that he wanted to wrap his arms around her and never let go… but the tense silence was there between them.

"Okay," he said, raising his voice to be heard, "we need to get our stories straight. When we walk into that Base, there are going to be a lot of questions…" his gaze lingered on Isabel for a moment, before he continued, "and I want to make sure we are all giving the same answers."

"You mean the same lies," Ava corrected, her tone bitter. Michael supposed he couldn't really blame her for her anger – being kidnapped by her supposed-to-be dead aunt was not the way he wanted her to find out the truth – but he also didn't have the luxury of addressing her feelings.

"Ava," Maria said softly, reaching out towards the young girl, "we never wanted to hurt you. That's _why_ we didn't tell you."

"Did you think we wouldn't figure it out eventually?" Ava asked, looking at her aunt with dark and angry eyes. "Did you think we would never cross paths with her… or Auntie Tess?"

Maria bit her lip and then murmured, "We would have told you eventually. We just… didn't think you needed to know yet."

Ava gave her an incredulous stare. "What about Vilandra? What about Skylar? Didn't they have a right to know? Do you have any idea how much it will hurt them to learn the truth… to learn that you didn't trust them with it before?"

"It wasn't an issue of trust," Alex said quickly, moving to Maria's side, facing Ava. "We were just… I was trying to protect my daughter, Ava. We were trying to protect all of you."

She gazed back at him, then asked softly, "When will you realize that you _can't_? Not now, not anymore. Not in this world." She spread out her arms as she spoke, gesturing to the landscape around them. It was barren and empty, a sign of everything that this war had cost them.

Maria and Alex exchanged a look, obviously not sure how to respond to that, but Michael spoke up, "Ava, just because it grows more difficult to protect the four of you does not mean that we are going to stop trying." He moved in between Ava and Maria, forcing his niece to look at him. "And whether you like it or not, there are a lot of things you do not understand, a lot of things you could not possibly understand, about this situation. You were not there when Isabel and Tess were taken, and you don't know what happened as a result of it."

"You could have told me," Ava protested.

"Would you like to know now?" Michael asked, his voice dangerously low. "Do you want to know how we turned on each other? How we ended up nearly at each other's throats? Kyle wouldn't speak to anyone for months afterwards, because most of us had believed Tess to be a traitor? Maria was the only one who even questioned what we believed, and that came too late to undo the damage we had done."

Ava gaped at him, surprised by his hard words. It was clear that she had not expected anything like that, and Michael knew why. For her entire life, the six adult hybrids had always presented a united front. Even when they argued, even when they disagreed, the ties between them were so obvious, so strong, that it would be almost inconceivable that they could be torn apart.

"Max accused Kyle of not caring about Isabel, Kyle accused him of not caring about Tess," Maria whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "Liz and Kyle, who had been such close friends forever, suddenly weren't able to be in the same room for more the a few minutes at a time, and all the problems we thought we had dealt with, all the problems that should have been left in the past… they came crashing into the present. It almost destroyed us, Ava. Is it any wonder we didn't want you to go through that also?"

Ava seemed to sag, to collapse inwards, some of her fire and anger fading. She looked over at Isabel, and Michael followed her gaze. Isabel was staring horrorstruck at them, upset by the turn of conversation, upset by the amount of damage she had done in the past.

Michael turned from Ava to the others and said, "We know what is going to happen if we walk in there and reveal the truth. There are a lot of people who don't trust us anyway. Finding out that Max's sister and Khivar's wife are one and the same…" He trailed off pointedly, not needing to elaborate – they already knew what would happen. It could mean disaster for Isabel, and for them.

"Do you really think they're not going to figure it out?" Max asked, speaking up cautiously as he slanted a quick look at his sister. "I mean, I haven't been here that long, but even I know that the people who work with you… us… aren't stupid. They _won't_ be easily fooled."

Michael ran a hand through his hair and gave a slow nod, acknowledging the truth in Max's words. "So we won't blatantly lie to them. We just… stretch the truth."

"They'll recognize Isabel," Maria pointed out with an apologetic look for Michael. "I agree with Max, I don't know how we're going to pull this off."

"Pull what off?" Ava demanded. "You can't _do_ anything."

"They don't know I'm Max's sister," Isabel said diffidently, speaking up for the first time since the conversation had started. "So why tell them?"

Michael frowned, not liking what he thought Isabel might be suggesting. By the looks of things, neither did Alex, although he at least was giving Isabel his full attention, willing to hear her plan.

"Look," Isabel suggested, appealing now to all of them, "we go back. We tell them that I was under a spell of some sort. Yeah, they won't trust me. They'll be upset, they'll be angry. But as long as they don't know that I'm Max's sister, then they won't get mad at _you_. Just me."

"No," Alex protested instantly. "That's like throwing you to the wolves. I'm not going to do it."

"But I'm the one who got you into this mess," Isabel protested. "Shouldn't I be the one to get you out of it?"

"We're in this together," Michael said firmly, shaking his head at Isabel. He admired her bravery and her insistence that she be the one to protect them, to right the wrongs she had committed. But it was foolish of her to think that they would be willing to sacrifice her so soon after they had found her again.

"Besides," Liz pointed out logically, "someone there is going to know the truth. There have to be people in the Resistance who know that Max's sister and Khivar's wife were one and the same." She bit her lip, thinking, then added, "And what about Vilandra? Zan? Skylar? What are you going to tell _them_?"

"Why do we have to worry about this?" Max asked, giving Michael a confused look. "Khivar is dead. The war is over. It isn't our issue anymore."

"The world was destroyed by our actions," Maria answered before Michael could reply to the question. "We have a responsibility to fix it."

"But it isn't our decision," Max argued. "Yes, we are partially responsible for what happened. And yes, we do have a responsibility to rebuild what we broke. But we aren't the only ones in charge now. When we were fighting a war, it made sense to have a group of people leading – people who knew what they had gotten themselves into, people who had powers needed to fight… people who knew Khivar. But that's over now."

"So?" Michael questioned, waiting for Max to elaborate on his thinking.

"So, if the main thing you are worried about is how people will react to Isabel… who cares? She doesn't have to come back, she doesn't have to lead everyone."

"You're suggesting we don't bring Isabel back to the Resistance Base," Michael said incredulously.

"That's insane," Alex jumped in quickly, eyes flashing. "What do you want to do, leave her out here in the desert?"

"No," Max snapped, annoyed at how quickly Alex had jumped to conclusions. "Do you really think I care that little for my sister?" Alex swallowed back his retort, having the good grace to look slightly embarrassed by what he had said. Max took a deep breath and continued, "We go back, we tell everyone that Khivar is dead. We let them organize their own rebuilding methods, we help out as needed. But Isabel doesn't need to come back. She can… there are other places she can live. We can all live. It doesn't… she doesn't have to come back."

Michael surveyed Max carefully, then looked over at Isabel. Max's plan would basically relegate her to a life of hiding, at least for the next several years. It wouldn't be that difficult, and she could easily hide in plain sight, in some little desert town like they had done for the first couple decades…

But it would keep her from the vengeful retribution of the people in the Resistance who would never trust her.

"Does anyone have a better idea?" Max asked, his words filling the silence.

Michael wordlessly shook his head.

"So do we tell everyone that Khivar's wife is dead?" Ava asked finally, looking at Michael. "Is that the plan? Is that our story?"

"Yes," Michael said, a little reluctantly. "We can tell Vilandra, Skylar, and Zan the truth… but no one else."

"What do we say about Tess?" Liz questioned, and Michael watched as she slanted a quick look at Kyle, as though afraid of asking the question. Kyle had not spoken up since the conversation started, and his expression was hard, unreadable, devoid of all expression.

"The same. People don't know that she is Kyle's wife," Michael answered. "They just know her as one of Khivar's strongest allies, pretty much his second-in-command. We tell them that she's dead also…" he chanced a glance at Kyle, "and that _is_ the truth."

"Fine," Kyle said, his tone cold. "But… we don't tell Skylar anything."

"What?"

He looked at the others and continued, "We don't tell Skylar – or Vilandra and Zan – that Tess was actually alive. They think she died years ago… so why tell him any differently? Like Michael said, she is dead, and knowing that she was alive, but… evil… for the past two decades… that is only going to hurt him."

"I don't think I can lie to them," Ava protested nervously, frowning at Kyle. "Besides, they have a right to know. Auntie Tess was Skylar's mother."

"What good would it do?" Kyle asked harshly. Ava shrank away from him, away from the anger radiating in his eyes, and he softened slightly. But his tone was just as firm, just as uncompromising, as he said, "How do you think he'll respond? Knowing that his mother isn't coming back? That you get a second chance with your parents, and Vilandra gets a second chance with his mother… and he doesn't?"

Ava looked mutinous and defiant, but Michael could understand all too well the truth behind Kyle's words. Ever since Max and Liz had come to this time, Skylar had been only just keeping his jealousy and hurt under control. But it was obvious how unhappy he was to find that Ava got to see her parents again, and yet he was left behind, unable to see Tess. How would he react to finding out the truth, to discovering, too late, that he might have been able to see his mother again?

How would he react to knowing that the only reason Isabel was back was _because_ Tess was dead?

They had not made the conscious choice to sacrifice one hybrid for the other, and Ava, whose powers were in fact responsible for Isabel surviving while Tess did not, hadn't even been there when Khivar had told them that it would take Tess' death for them to get Isabel back. There was no way Ava could have known any of it, and even if she had, Michael found it impossible to believe that she would have chosen one over the other. None of them would have been able to do that.

But would Skylar understand that? Or would he blame all of them – Ava included – for what had happened?

"He's _my_ son," Kyle said emphatically. "It should be my decision."

"It isn't just your son who would be affected," Maria argued instantly. "It's Zan and Vilandra also. We're lying to all three of them."

"Do you really think it is the same?" Kyle snapped. "She wasn't _their_ mother. Zan never even met her."

"Kyle's right," Michael said, a little reluctant to voice his opinion when it was clear that the majority disagreed with him. Maria looked completely scandalized but what he had said, and Alex and Max exchanged dubious frowns. Isabel shook her head silently, running a hand through her hair and looking ill-pleased.

Only Liz seemed not to disagree with him, but her expression was neutral, and he couldn't tell for sure what she was thinking.

"Besides," Michael added, his tone a little ironic, "we've been lying to them for the past two decades." He sighed, rubbing the back of his head absently. "If we need to, we can always change our decision later. We can tell them the truth in a few years… when the stakes aren't quite so high. When Skylar might be more ready to hear us."

"Fine," Maria muttered under her breath. "But you're making a mistake."

Alex shrugged. "I don't agree with the idea, but I guess Kyle is right that Skylar is his son. If this is what he wants… I'll go along with it."

Michael smiled at that. He wasn't sure how much of Alex's agreement was based on the belief that Kyle really did have the right to decide, and how much was due to a fear that this could start another dissolution of their group. Kyle's fury and pain was simmering right below the surface, and his hard expression and angry words reminded Michael of the argument the group had had when Isabel was first taken. Lines were being drawn once more – he could see that by the mutiny in Maria's gaze, by the way Max and Isabel both looked extraordinarily reluctant to agree with Kyle. He'd already seen issues regarding Tess tear them apart once, and he didn't want it to happen again.

And neither, he thought to himself, did Alex.

Max gave in as well, as did Isabel, and Liz just shrugged and nodded her head when asked if she would agree to the plan.

Michael sighed again.

It was odd, he reflected as he watched Max and Liz, that they had been accepted so quickly. In the beginning, he had been a little wary of what they could do, as had Maria, Alex, and Kyle. Though the King and Queen of Antar might look like their future selves, they were still just sixteen – or was it seventeen? – years old. But now it seemed to make perfect sense that they could participate in the group, that they could be expected to make decisions and complete actions requiring the experience of someone over twice their age.

It occurred to them then that they would probably have to go back to the past at some point. And then they would be lost all over again.

They'd won the war, but at what cost? How much more could they bend until they snapped, until they broke completely?

* * *

When Liz got back to the Resistance Base, she was nervous. She didn't like the idea of lying to Skylar, Vilandra, and Zan. She didn't like the idea of trying to keep Isabel's presence a secret from the rest of the Resistance. She knew it was necessary, of course, but that didn't mean she had to like it.

She could tell the others were nervous as well. Ava still had the same mutinous, defiant glare in her eyes, and when she thought the others weren't looking, she sent sharp stares at their backs. But underneath the anger, Liz could see worry, and the fear.

It was strange, looking at Ava. For all intents and purposes, her daughter was a complete stranger, just someone who she had met by chance, like a passerby on the street. And yet she could see in Ava's expression and Ava's mannerisms, bits and pieces of herself, and of Max.

Only a few days ago, she hadn't known anything about herself, about her past life on Antar. Just a few days ago, she hadn't even known she was an alien.

Just a few days ago, she hadn't known she could be a mother.

But there was no denying it now. She still felt some sense of unease when she looked at Ava, just the barest of worries that she wouldn't be good enough, couldn't be good enough. Being a mother was no easy task, and some part of her seemed to be subconsciously expecting her to fail at it. But Ava was brave and kind, and if perhaps a little reckless then at least she did everything with the best of intentions. So whatever Liz had done as a mother, she must have been at least semi-decent at it, or else how could Ava have turned out so well?

Once again, they were gathered together in one of the meeting rooms. She recognized all of the others who were gathered as the people who had met prior to the attack on Khivar's stronghold. The leaders of the Resistance. They had come together once more, and this time there was a sense of possibility in the air, a lingering feeling of optimism.

"So… is it true?" a woman asked briskly, without preamble. "Khivar is dead?"

Liz frowned at her, trying to remember the woman's name, and determined after a moment that it was Christy. Christy, she remembered, had sided with the outspoken Aaron, displaying her distrust of the hybrids, arguing against the fact that they were being kept in the dark while Michael sorted out a plan that could change all their fates, all their futures.

Christy had strode forward, her arms crossed over her chest, green eyes darting back and forth between Michael and Max. There was a hopeful look in her green eyes, something almost pleading. The rest of the room had gone completely silent, and Liz suddenly realized just how desperate everyone was for the answer.

Michael did not make then wait. "Yes," he said simply, bluntly. "And so our many of his skins. His stronghold has been destroyed."

"His wife, his generals?" another asked.

Michael paused for a split-second, and Liz saw his gaze slant sideways towards Ava, who stood in the corner of the room, flanked on either side by Zan and Skylar, and only a few feet away from a weary looking Vilandra. "Dead," he said, turning his eyes back towards the others, away from his niece.

There was a murmuring of excitement, of tremulous disbelief that ran through the room. Liz watched Ava, watched as she lowered her gaze and stared at the floor. If anyone else noted Ava's gloomy expression, they did not comment on it, did not question it.

"Where is Alex?" a new voice said, and Liz turned to see Aaron enter the room. He looked disheveled and worn, and it was then that Liz remembered that they weren't the only ones who had just fought a battle. What had happened, she silently asked herself, to all the others who had faced Khivar's army? The unnatural darkness had faded, so they had obviously won, but at what cost? How many had been lost?

"He's safe," Maria said. "He's alive."

Alex had remained behind with Isabel, neither of them coming to the Resistance Base. They had decided to return to the safe-house in the cliffs near the pod chamber, the one Max and Liz had stayed in when they had first arrived. Only a limited number of people had access to it, all aliens, all friends who could be trusted, who probably already knew the truth about Isabel.

Aaron narrowed his eyes at Maria's answer, and a ripple of muttering ran through the room. At first, Liz thought it was dissent, annoyance at not receiving a straightforward answer. But then she scrutinized the expressions on the faces of those who had gathered, and realized what she was seeing was not anger, but fear.

They were afraid for Alex. They thought something might have happened to him, something bad.

Maria, realizing this, said quickly, "He was a little injured by the fight, but it was nothing that Max could not heal." She smiled, although Liz thought it looked stressed and strained, and added, "Really. He's _fine_."

Aaron accepted this with a nod, and Liz wondered what he thought had happened, where he thought Alex might be. But he didn't press the issue, which surprised her. It was obvious by the sneering tone of all his comments in the argument before the battle that he did not like and did not fully trust many of the hybrids. And yet, oddly, it seemed also that he cared a great deal about their lives and their safety, and she could see the obvious relief in his eyes at Maria's emphatic words.

She looked around the room. The others, too, were smiling a little, looking pleased. Happy. Reassured.

How many times, she thought to herself, did they go off to fight a battle against Khivar's army and come back missing people? How many times had their victories come at a high price, how many times had their losses been almost too much to bear?

How many people had they buried?

"It's not over," the woman Liz recognized as Serena said. "With Khivar dead, with his most dangerous supporters killed… that's progress. But it isn't over. We're a _long way_ from this being over."

* * *

They'd argued for the better part of two hours, and Vilandra found herself continually unable to pay attention to the discussion. She knew it was important – they were talking about the future of the world – but she could not focus on that. All she could think of was her mother.

She hadn't told anyone about what had happened. After Ava was kidnapped, she, Skylar, and Zan had found Aaron and reported to him. He'd been horrified, of course, by what had happened, and had ordered them all back to the Resistance Base with the intention of mounting a rescue mission for Ava as soon as they managed to win this battle.

And she was far too worn out and bewildered to argue with him.

By some unspoken agreement, the three had kept it secret that they had recognized the person who had taken Ava. There were probably others in the Resistance who could have answered questions for them, others such as Larek and maybe even Serena, but they wanted to wait until their parents returned.

They wanted answers from their own family first.

Her relief at finding Ava alive and safe was short-lived, dampened by Ava's whisper, "We need to talk." They'd hugged when she'd returned, and Vilandra had given her a questioning gaze, but Ava would say no more.

And there was more to this story, of that Vilandra was convinced.

But it was obvious that Ava wanted to wait until they could talk about this as a group, until they could sit down and discuss all the details without worrying about being overheard. Because Vilandra was convinced, and Ava's secretive attitude strengthened her suspicions, that very few others knew about Isabel.

She wasn't the only one who had been kept in the dark.

But Isabel was her mother, and didn't she have a right to know?

They finally ended the meeting, at least for the evening. Michael concluded everything with a brusque order, "We will tell everyone that Khivar has been defeated. Aaron, Kal, Christy, Jess, get the news out fast and as far as you can. I don't want to give any of the remaining skins the chance to come up with their own plans, their own means of spreading information. Khivar is gone, and everyone should know that."

"We meet again tomorrow?" Aaron asked. "Tomorrow morning?"

"Yes," Michael agreed readily enough. "The sooner we have a plan for proceeding with everything, the better."

The others filed out of the room, talking to each other with animated expressions and gestures. Vilandra ran a hand through her hair and tried to remember what they had even agreed on in the past two hours. There were still groups of skins and other aliens, and some humans, remnants of Khivar's army that needed to be stopped. And then they had to rebuild the entire world, or, at least, the parts of it that the war had destroyed. So they must have been talking about that, but Vilandra simply could not remember it.

Then Maria was suddenly standing before her. "Come on," she said to the four children. "We need to talk."

And Vilandra followed her aunt from the room.

* * *

Everything was depressingly silent.

Isabel was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall with a blank expression on her face. She had been quiet the entire time since separating from the others, not saying a single word. Alex had seen the look of mild surprise on her face when he brought her through the rock wall and into this secret safe-house, but other than that, she had appeared mostly numb.

Alex sat at the desk across from the bed, sorting through a pile of papers. They were all maps of different types, with locations of Khivar's army camps marked on them. Some showed terrain, others showed cities, and a few showed known locations of Khivar's supporters.

He pulled out one of the maps, the one that showed Khivar's stronghold on it, and viciously scraped through the stronghold with a heavy black pen, crossing it off the paper.

He felt only a little satisfaction as he did so. What should have been a happy moment, the removal of Khivar's base of operations, an action symbolizing the beginning of the end of the war, was dampened by the silence, by the tension, and by Isabel's obvious unease.

He turned and looked at her. Really _looked_ at her.

Her eyes were rimmed with red. Her skin was pale, and showed tear tracks running down her cheeks. Her gaze was unfocused. She was still covered in dirt, and her fingernails were chipped, her clothes torn. Alex supposed he looked no better, physically at least.

But it wasn't the physical appearance that bothered him. It was the complete lack of emotion in her eyes.

"Isabel…" he started, and then stopped. She looked at him, and he had no idea what to say. All the words he had saved up, all the feelings he had longed to express since her kidnapping years earlier… they were all gone. They disappeared, flowing out of his mind before he could stop them.

Pride had kept him quiet during their ride over. He'd wanted _her_ to say something to _him_, wanted her to have to make the first attempt. After all, he was the one who had endured her betrayal for so long, and he was the one who had clung to the desperate hope that she could be saved. He had believed in her, in his own ability to bring back the woman he loved, but he needed her to meet him halfway. He needed her to prove that she _wanted_ to come back to him.

But even more than that, he simply needed _her_.

He turned to face her fully, pushing away the maps as he did so. He could no longer hide behind his silence, waiting for her. He wasn't sure if she was waiting for him to make the first move, or if she was simply waiting. But _someone_ had to do _something_ before the silence drove him insane.

"I missed you," he said finally. It sounded pathetic, even to his own ears, but what else could he say? What could possibly encompass everything he had felt for the past nearly eighteen years? Wouldn't anything sound trite and shallow compared with the grief he had felt then and the horror she must be feeling now.

Her voice was hollow when she answered, "I wish I could say I missed you. But I never even thought of you while I was with Khivar."

Alex inhaled sharply. There was a bitter taste in his mouth as he asked, "Do you think of me now?"

She looked away from him and rose to her feet. Walking to the other side of the room, towards the door, she folded her arms over her chest and stared out into the corridor as though waiting for something. Perhaps she was. Perhaps she expected this all to be some sort of dream, and she would soon wake up back in Khivar's stronghold, at his side.

"I think of all the people I've killed," she said, her tone harsh. It was the first emotion he had heard in her voice, the first one he had seen so plainly on her face. And it was self-loathing. "Or the people whose deaths I have profited from. I think of Tess. And Vilandra."

He shivered at the strength of her self-recrimination.

"Isabel, please," Alex murmured, and felt the sting of tears in his eyes. He was pleading, begging, but he had no idea what for. All he knew is that he was desperate for something, and Isabel was the only one who could provide it.

She looked at him, fleetingly, then shook her head. "You should have gone back with the others," she said. "They need you at the Resistance Base. They'll need your help with rebuilding everything."

"And what about you?" Alex asked. "Do you need me?" He wondered if she could hear the emotion that choked his voice, that made his heart beat rapidly, that nearly stopped his lungs. He wondered if she knew that her answer to that question had the ability to remove years of heartache. He wondered if she knew that it also had the ability to crush him completely.

She wasn't looking at him as she answered, "I can take care of myself."

It was a blow more stinging, more painful, more devastating than anything else she could have said. He pushed back his chair and rose to his feet, barely noticing the way it scraped against the floor, teetering on the back two legs. "What about me?" he demanded. "What about what _I_ need?"

She laughed, a harsh, ironic sound. "You don't need me."

"You _don't_ know that!"

The words were loud, awkward, and they reverberated through the room with a nearly deafening intensity. He was Alex Whitman. He did not yell, he did not even raise his voice above speaking level. He was calm, he was logical, he was rational. Above all else, he could be trusted to be the voice of reason in an otherwise passionately fervent argument.

And yet Isabel was destroying whatever remnants of self-control he had. She was slowly and steadily chipping away at the calm foundation of his personality, eroding everything he had taken for granted for years.

"I kill people, Alex," she said. "I _destroy_ them. My brother, my daughter… everyone. I've turned against them all. Betrayed them. What kind of person does that? What sister doesn't care when her brother and sister-in-law are killed? What wife does not miss her husband? What _mother_ leaves her own _daughter_ behind?"

It was the mention of Vilandra that made her voice shake the most, that seemed to nearly force her to her knees in grief and despair.

"I've destroyed _you_," she added in a lower whisper.

He swallowed and forced himself to answer in a level tone, "Do I seem destroyed to you?" She shook her head and furiously wiped at her eyes, brushing away the tears. He bit back his own bitter laugh and continued, "You haven't destroyed me yet, Isabel. But you're doing a pretty good job of it now."

"What do you _want_ from me?" she cried, a strangled, almost hysterical sob. She sagged back against the wall, the strength of the cry sapping her of her own ability to stand firm. It was as though she was falling under the weight of herself, of her words, her actions. She was sinking inwards, shrinking before his very eyes.

"I want you to talk to me," he said, trying to keep his voice gentle. Isabel, too, had usually had great self-control. It was not always tempered with reason and logic, and often it was more a sign of her own stubbornness than anything else. It was clear by her tone that she, too, was reaching the end of her rapidly fraying rope.

They were crashing towards something, set on a collision course for a confrontation that could bring them back together… and tear them irrevocably apart.

"Talk to you?" she hissed. "_Talk_ to you? Alex, you want your Isabel back. You want to pretend the last eighteen years _didn't_ happen, and that I am the same person you once knew. But they _did_ happen, and _nothing_ anyone says or does will change that. Don't you see? Don't you understand? It's over, _we're_ over. I've changed, and I _can't_ go back. I can't undo _anything_ I did."

He crossed the room to her side, grabbing her arms in his own tight grip. "I'm not asking you to!"

"Yes, you are!"

She tried to pull away from him, but he refused to let go of her. "Do you really think it could ever work like that?" he demanded hotly. "Do you think that if you somehow changed back into the Isabel I remember, that it would be enough to make _me_ forget what happened? You're _not_ the only one who has been changed by everything. You're not the only one who can't go back. And even if you managed to pretend like all that never happened, like it no longer haunts you, I will still remember it. It would still haunt _me_."

Isabel was crying completely now, tears spilling out from her eyes and pouring day her face. She opened her mouth to say something, but all that escaped was a choked sob.

"I'm not asking you to be anything other than what you are," Alex whispered.

"But the person I am now isn't what you want," Isabel countered, finding her voice. It was scratchy and stiff, and her words were heavy, falling into the space between them with echoing finality.

He shook his head, a bittersweet smile playing across his features. "You are _always_ what I want, Isabel," he rejoined, "no matter what."

"Why?" she asked, her voice a low whisper filled with painfully tortuous hope.

"Because I love you," Alex answered simply. "And because, no matter what you claim to feel now, I know that, once upon a time, you loved me, too."

Her strength gave out then, and she fell against him, against his chest, her head buried into his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, almost afraid that she would slip through his grasp and fade into nothing if he let her go.


	18. Picking Up the Pieces

Title: When Times Collide

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Summary: When Max and Liz's daughter comes to the past seeking help, two times collide in a desperate race to save the future.

* * *

Chapter Eighteen: Picking Up the Pieces

By this point in time, she was simply numb.

There was no other way to describe the emotion that had settled heavily in her chest, coursed through her veins like ice-cold blood until it reached every part of her being, and now pressed down on her with an aching, leaden weight.

With a detached gaze, she picked apart the odds and ends of the others in the room, the way Max and Liz were holding hands, their knuckles white with the pressure of their grip, the way Skylar's gaze had become blank, shutters dropping over his normally expressive dark eyes, the way Ava had averted her gaze, as though afraid of letting anyone see what was on her mind.

She formed no thoughts on what she saw, however, and continued to focus her gaze on Michael. He was the one who had spoken, who had tried to explain what had happened and why they had told the lies they had, but none of it penetrated the heavy fog that circled her mind in its swirling mists.

Did they think it would? Did they think she would just accept what they had to say, and then everything was over and done with?

She exhaled finally, and forced herself to speak, although the words were probably not what the others wanted to here. There was no understanding in her tone, no relief in what she spoke. Instead, it was bitterness and anger, and the faintest accusation of betrayal.

"You _lied_ to me. You lied to me for _eighteen_ years?"

Maria and Michael exchanged a worried look, and Michael said, "We didn't want to, Vilandra. But we also didn't want to hurt you with the truth. You were too young to understand, and…"

"I'm _eighteen_! And she's _my_ mother. How could you make a decision like that? How could you ever think it was _your_ decision to make?" Vilandra was fuming, her entire body shaking with rage, an emotion that had suddenly burst through the confines of the numbness and now radiated from her in great, rolling waves.

"Vilandra," Maria cut in quickly, when it became clear that Michael was floundering, unable to find the right words to reply to that rant, "put yourself in our shoes. Isabel was… gone… and we didn't know if she was ever coming back. There was no reason to believe that you would get a chance to know her again, and no reason to believe that she would ever remember you… What would you have done? Would you really have hurt someone you loved, someone you had sworn to protect now that she had lost her mother, by telling her something that would only bring her pain? Something she could _not_ change."

Vilandra shrugged and folded her arms over her chest. "She had the right to know," she said stubbornly. "And her mother did come back."

"But she's not the one who had to make the decision," Maria answered logically. "And no one knew her mother would return to our side." Vilandra opened her mouth to argue that point, but Maria continued, "Khivar killed Max and Liz, and Isabel didn't come back to our side. Khivar killed her own _brother_… there was nothing left of Isabel in that… person. Nothing left of your mother. As far as we knew, she wasn't ever coming back."

"As far as we knew," Kyle cut in with a cold tone, "we'd have to kill her to save ourselves."

Vilandra looked at him, and wondered about his words. She was perceptive enough to know that there was something else on his mind, something he wasn't saying. But just when she thought she might press the subject, demand more answers, the meaning of his words hit her in full force.

"You'd _kill_ her?" she whispered, horrified.

"Vilandra, your mother tried to kill us on multiple occasions," Michael said. "And she didn't hold anything back. There might have come a time…" he trailed off, and didn't finish the thought, but the unspoken words lingered in the air around her, bearing witness to just how far gone her mother had been.

It came back to her, then, the numbness. She could not comprehend, or perhaps did not want to comprehend, the meanings of everything she had learned. It was far too much information, and it overpowered her, pushing her mind back and forth until it could no longer stand up to the strain.

She slid down the wall into a sitting position on the floor and stared blankly at the ground.

"The important thing," Liz murmured as she let go of Max's hand and stepped forward, coming to kneel in front of her niece, "is that Isabel _is_ back. She's here now. She's safe. And you get a second chance with her. Very few people get anything like that."

"Where's my Dad?" she asked finally, hoarsely.

"He's at the safe-house by the pod chamber with your mother," Michael answered. "They wanted to be here, but… Well, you understand why we can't tell anyone that your mother is back?"

Vilandra looked at him, biting back the urge to sneer. How could they expect her to understand anything, to believe a single word they uttered? Maria might claim that their lies were all to protect her, but what difference did that make? They were still lies, and now, after learning the truth, how could she trust that they hadn't lied to her about anything else as equally important as her mother's life?

Still, she forced herself to say in a voice devoid of all emotion, "Yes. I understand." And if Maria looked at her a little sharply, sensing the emotions that simmered underneath the still surface of her expression, knowing that the words were a lie, Vilandra paid no attention to it.

Instead, she closed her eyes and pictured her mother's face, a face lacking any warmth or caring, as the statuesque hybrid had loomed over Ava, surrounded by the blood and smoke of war.

* * *

Alex was pacing.

Isabel watched him with a steady gaze, just barely able to decipher the bits and pieces of anxiety and fear that hovered over him. He hadn't changed as much as she would have expected, given that eighteen years had passed since she had left them. But there were some differences – heavier lines in his face and a perpetually haunted look in his eyes – that she knew were the results of experiences they would never be able to share.

He stopped and turned towards her. "I should be there," he said, frustration clouding his words. "I… I should be there to explain…" He let out a great sigh, and then resumed pacing once more.

Isabel ran a hand through her hair and answered, "If anyone needs to explain to Vilandra, it's me. I'm the one who left her. I'm the one who _forgot_ her." There was bitter self-loathing in her voice, and a burning sensation filled her eyes as they prickled with tears.

But Alex shook his head. "You didn't have a choice, Izzy. You were under Khivar's control. None of this is your fault. If anything, you're more the victim than we are."

His words were kind and reassuring, and his face was filled with honestly, enough that Isabel knew he believed what he was saying. But despite his assurances, she did not believe it. She _couldn't_ believe it, because it really wasn't that simple.

"I remember what I did," she whispered. "Sometimes, it feels distant. Like a dream. Other times… everything is so vivid, and I can smell blood and…" She trailed off with a sigh. It was easy enough to say that she had been under someone else's control, that her actions were not her own. But that did not stop her from remembering what it had felt like to kill, to carelessly, casually, take another's life.

It was something Alex would never be able to understand, no matter how hard he tried.

Alex was staring at her, and she met his gaze and tried to smile. It came out as more of a grimace, and Alex said, "Michael will be telling Vilandra the truth. She'll be upset… feel betrayed. And I'm… I'm not there. Neither of us are. And we should be, but…"

Isabel swatted at her eyes with one hand, brushing aside the tears as she replied, "Yes, you should be. But you can't be two places at once, and you'll have a chance to explain everything to her later. Soon."

She hated the helplessly lost expression on Alex's face. It was all her fault, that he was here and not at the Resistance Base. Someone had had to show Isabel where this safe-house was, someone had needed to get her settled in because they didn't know how long she would be forced to stay here. And, although no one had said it aloud, Isabel knew that they also wanted someone to stay with her because they were afraid of her emotional state. She had seen the nervous glances sent between Max and Michael, she'd seen the way Maria's eyes never strayed to far from her own tormented expression.

And that meant that Alex had been forced to choose between being the one to help his wife, or the one to reveal the truth to his daughter.

There was little she could do to help Alex at the moment, however, besides offer some distraction. So she changed the subject and asked, "How are Max and Liz here? No one ever explained that to me, and… I know they died."

Her voice shook as she uttered the last words, as she tried to remind herself that at least she had not been the one to kill them. But that made little difference to her, given that she had been married to the man who had killed them. Even after Khivar had murdered her brother and sister-in-law…

She'd still been on his side.

"They're from the past," Alex explained. "Ava used the Granolith to go back in time and bring them here. They somehow showed up in their future bodies… I'm not really sure how." He looked at her, his expression softening, and said, "The Max and Liz from our time are still dead."

"Oh…" She blinked and looked away, and Alex resumed his pacing. Fishing for the right words of comfort, she said, "Maria is good with emotional stuff, right? And she'll be there, to help Michael explain, to help Vilandra understand… And Liz was always good at that sort of thing, also…"

Alex nodded mutely, and did not look all that relieved.

Isabel sighed and closed her eyes, thinking of Maria. She'd always shied away from the other woman, particularly when under Khivar's control. She didn't like the knowledge that Maria could sense her emotions, it felt like far too much an invasion of privacy. And she was afraid of it, of what it could reveal about herself. She didn't think even Maria grasped the scope of her power. As far as she knew, they had only ever used Maria's power for subterfuge, for spying. They didn't understand…

Being able to read emotions gave a person knowledge of the greatest fears and greatest hopes of their enemies and allies, a knowledge that could so easily be used against them. And the ability to manipulate emotions, something Isabel was sure Maria could do even if the pixie blonde herself didn't realize she could do it… that would give her the ability to influence other people's actions without them even knowing they were not acting entirely of their own free will…

And that was a type of mind control far greater than anything even Tess had possessed.

Tess…

Isabel opened her eyes and looked at Alex. He was still pacing, still worried, and she did not want to add her own fears to his already overburdened shoulders. So she did not say what she was thinking, did not mention that she was worried about Kyle.

In fact, she doubted his current emotional state was any more stable than hers, albeit for a different reason…

Then she let her thoughts turn back to her daughter, and asked softly, "Alex… what is she like? Vilandra, I mean."

He stopped his pacing and looked at her with a frown, trying to choose the right words. "She's… smart. Courageous. Beautiful… She usually quiet, quick to compromise, to try to mend rifts and fix problems… but sometimes, when she's determined about something…" he smiled warmly, his eyes slightly unfocused as he thought of his daughter, _their_ daughter, "she can be so incredibly stubborn…"

* * *

"Hey, Skylar," Maria said as she knocked on the partially open door of the eighteen-year-old's room. Looking inside, she was surprised to find that Skylar was alone, she had expected Kyle to be there as well. But it was just Skylar, sitting on a low chair across from his bed, and staring moodily at the blank wall.

Skylar looked at her, his eyes almost foreboding. "If you're looking for my Dad," he said with a touch of bitterness in his tone, "he's gone to visit Grandpa."

"Oh. Well, I wasn't," Maria said, a little wrong-footed by Skylar's moodiness. She stepped further into the room, closing the door behind her. "I was looking for you." It shouldn't have come as a surprise to her that Skylar would be feeling sullen and morose – he had always had a temper – but still… she had not expected it to be so strong.

Skylar lifted one laconic eyebrow, and asked in a sort-of drawl, "Why? More lies to tell? Or are you coming clean now?" Maria didn't say anything, a little unsure how to best proceed, and Skylar shook his head and asked, "Whose idea was it to lie about my mother? My first guess would be my Dad, it does seem like the kind of remarkably idiotic thing he would do to try to _protect_ me…"

Maria was only able to stare. In all their discussions, all their planning, all their careful plotting for how they would reveal the truth about Isabel while still keeping their secrets about Tess, no one had ever broached the possibility that one of the four children might see through the lies. And she had never even considered that Skylar might know if they were keeping something from them.

In retrospect, it was perhaps foolish to presume that he would believe anything they said after finding out that they had lied about Isabel for so long.

She licked her lips and said, "Skylar, you have to understand… we just wanted to spare you the pain…"

He laughed, a chilling sound that held no mirth in it. His tone was laced with venom as he answered, "And you thought I would never figure it out?" Looking away from her, he said, "I never questioned anything before. I never really wondered why the people from Tel'Ar, a planet that should have been loyal to my mother, would fight for Khivar. I never asked why you all squirted around the issue of Khivar's wife and general, why you would never say either of their names. I never pressed the subject when you refused to give details about my mother's death… I guess I always assumed that it could all be chalked up to the craziness of war. Nothing's every logical, there's too much emotion, too much frenzy and panic and terror, for people to make rational decisions. But then…"

He stopped talking with a sigh and rose to his feet, still not looking at her. Maria held her breath and reached out with a tenuous, diffident effort to read his emotions. But no matter how hard she tried to be gentle, tried only to let her mind touch the outermost layer of his feelings, she could not stop the inevitable barrage that slammed into her.

Anger. Betrayal. Loss. Grief. Denial. Fury. Pain.

She staggered backwards, sagging against the wall. Skylar did not notice, or if he did, he did not comment on it. Instead, he continued speaking.

"But then you came back with your story. And I wondered…" He slanted a quick look at Maria, his lips quirking into a humorless smile. "Dad's expression when you talked about Aunt Isabel. _That_ was a give-away, more than anything else. That was when I knew."

"Skylar, I'm so sorry," Maria said gently. "You have to believe… I am sorry we couldn't save her. I am sorry you had to lose her. I am sorry… I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted…" She rubbed her temples with both hands, the headache refusing to let go of its tight grip on her already overburdened mind.

"So Vilandra gets her mother back," Skylar said, ignoring Maria's words. "And Ava gets to see both her parents again. And what do I get? The knowledge that my mother was evil, but unlike Aunt Isabel, she's not coming back? Evil _and_ dead. Lucky me."

"She wasn't evil," Maria said, a little more sharply than she had intended. But she had already had this argument once, a long time ago, and she had watched helplessly as it had nearly destroyed everything and everyone she cared about. This was Skylar's mother, and she would not let the same argument destroy him.

Tess wouldn't have wanted that.

Skylar looked at her, meeting her gaze fully. His own expression was unreadable, but Maria thought that perhaps that was because he himself did not know exactly how he felt. Underneath all the other emotions, she could sense a helpless bewilderment, a confusion as to what exactly he was supposed to do now.

"And yet you killed her anyway," Skylar snapped.

Maria's throat went dry. Skylar had heard the whole story, had listened as Michael had explained about Liz's powers, about the building collapsing all around them… and Michael had gone so far as to mention that Khivar's wife and his allied general had been in the building with them.

And that it was Ava who had protected them. Meaning…

"Don't worry," Skylar sneered, accurately reading the expression on Maria's face, "I don't blame Ava for not being able to save her." He turned completely away from her, folding his arms over his chest. "I blame all of you."

"We never wanted it to end like this," Maria protested, though the words sounded weak even to her own ears.

"And let me guess," Skylar muttered, "you're now going to tell me how much you loved her and that her death is tearing you apart inside."

"I wish I could tell you that your mother and I were the best of friends," Maria said softly, a little sadly. "I wish I could tell you that I loved her like a sister and that her death is as painful to me as it is to Kyle. But you obviously don't want more lies, and I don't really think platitudes will help now."

Skylar snorted and gave a jerky, curt nod.

"We weren't best friends. Not like Liz and Alex and I were. And I didn't love her like a sister, the way I love Kyle like a brother. And, in all honestly, my grief for her is not the same as what Kyle feels. Or even what Max, Michael, and Isabel feel. But… her death _is_ painful, as was watching her turn to Khivar and not being able to save her from that fate. There is very little in this world I wouldn't give for a second chance to get everything right."

"Is this supposed to make me feel better?" Skylar asked sarcastically.

With a bittersweet smile, Maria answered, "Is there anything I could say or do that would make you feel better right now?" Skylar didn't answer, and Maria pressed on with a resigned feeling, "I'm just trying to give you an honest explanation. Because, you see… the Tess I knew was stubborn and temperamental and fiery. The Tess I knew was fiercely loyal, passionate, and nearly obsessive in her fervent desire to protect the ones she loved. She could be rash and sometimes even mean, but she was not particularly cruel or malicious. She had flaws, but she was, all in all, a good person. And a good friend."

Skylar frowned and turned to stare at her with moody eyes. There was little resemblance to Tess in his physical appearance. His skin was too tan, his eyes and hair too dark, his face to angular for any of those traits to have been inherited from her. But the expressions… it was unnerving just how similar the manifestations of his emotions looked to those of his mother.

Sometimes, staring at him, Maria felt as though she was staring at Tess instead.

She exhaled, forcing the air from her lungs, and said, "The thing you have to understand, Skylar, is that the Tess I remember, the Tess I knew… she's been dead for eighteen years. And that thing that existed in her place… that was not her. That was a monster… a thing Khivar had used to destroy her."

* * *

"Skylar knows."

Liz looked up in surprise as Maria entered the bedroom and flopped down on the bed. She looked irate, confused, and worried, and she kept running her hand through her short blonde hair, fingers curling around the ends and getting caught in a few knots.

"About Tess?" Liz questioned, although she already knew the answer.

Maria nodded. "He figured it out on his own. I went to talk to him, I wanted to see how he was doing… and he questioned me about it. I couldn't lie to him… so…" She sounded frustrated and miserable. Looking at Liz with an apologetic expression, she said, "I'm sorry. It's just… Michael's gone to take Vilandra to see Alex and Isabel, and I… I don't know. I just needed to tell someone this, and you're my best friend."

"Always," Liz agreed with a smile. "You can tell me anything."

Maria grumbled impatiently, angrily, "And he doesn't want me to tell anyone." Looking slightly abashed, she added, "Which means you're sworn to secrecy."

"My lips are sealed," Liz promised. Then she paused, thinking over what Maria had said, and asked in confusion, "What doesn't he want you to tell? The truth about Tess?"

"No," Maria answered. "Well, yes, that too. But mostly he just didn't want me to tell anyone that he knows the truth. He wants to pretend to be ignorant. And I don't know why he wants that. He wouldn't say."

"But you must have a guess," Liz countered. After all, Maria _knew_ Skylar, she'd watched him grow up. And she could sense other people's emotions, so she would have the benefit of added clues from that. The blonde was perceptive enough to pick up on a hint of something if she was really looking for it.

Maria nodded glumly. "I think he's worried about hurting Vilandra and Ava. He doesn't know the full details of it, but he knows that we were able to save one and not the other. He says he doesn't blame Ava for Tess' death, and I am sure that he doesn't blame Vilandra for the fact that her mother is still alive – although he might resent her a little – but that doesn't mean they don't or won't blame themselves."

"He's trying to protect them," Liz mused. It made sense, she had seen just how much Skylar cared for all of them. In fact, she had heard the story of how the three – Skylar, Vilandra, and Zan – had rushed after Ava, determined to find her and protect her from whatever danger she was walking into. And Ava had explained that the reason she had ended up in Isabel's clutches was because she had allowed herself to be kidnapped rather than let the other three come to harm.

If nothing else, those four loved each other dearly.

And no matter how angry, how resentful, how bitter Skylar was, he would not actively try to cause them pain.

"Kyle raised a good kid," she murmured. "Temperamental, but… good. Really good."

"Yeah," Maria agreed readily enough. "He did."

But still, despite knowing that the deception was for all the right reasons, Liz could not help but feel a little dismayed. She, too, would lie to protect the ones she loved from a devastating truth, in this case the knowledge that it was Tess' death that had saved Isabel, but that did almost nothing to ease the tightening in her stomach, the concern that filled her chest.

How many lies had they told each other over the years? And how many lies would they be forced to tell in the future? The war was over… but at what cost? Was this yet another price they would have to pay, the knowledge that they could not be fully honest with each other?

They had won… so why didn't it feel as though they were victorious? Why did she still sit there and wish there was a way to fix everything?

* * *

There was another reason Skylar didn't want to tell anyone what he knew. As he wearily climbed the stairs to visit his grandfather and his father, he reflected on how much this must be hurting his Dad. To know that Aunt Isabel was back, but that his mother was now truly and completely gone… It tore him apart inside, and he hadn't even been there when his mother had died. He hadn't had to watch as the building fell down on her…

His Dad obviously thought that lying about this would protect his son. Skylar scoffed at the idea – when would they ever learn that they couldn't protect him? Ava, Zan, Vilandra… all of them. They were all growing up, and they all had to learn to survive in a war-torn world.

Lies did little to help ease the pain of the destruction and chaos that had been a part of their lives for so long.

He had needed Maria to confirm what he suspected. He had needed to hear her admit to it, because despite the knowledge, deep down, that those lies had all been falsehood and fabrications, he still was not entirely sure he would believe it until he heard it from someone else.

And Maria had confirmed. So now he knew the truth. He could not deny it, could not hide from it. He would have to accept it for what it was, and learn to live with that.

And yet… and yet he loved his Dad. With his mother gone, what else did he have? Yes, the rest of his family was always eager to make him feel loved, to try to make up for what he had lost. But it didn't make up for the missing parent, a lesson that Vilandra and Ava had also been forced to learn.

If it helped his Dad, if it made him feel even a little bit better to think that he was somehow protecting his son…

No, Skylar could not take that from him. Not this time. He might rage against all other lies, scorning them as pointless, futile. He might sneer angrily any time he was informed that this incessant desire to _protect_ him was really all for his own good, or just another sign that they loved him dearly. He might find himself frequently arguing that he was eighteen, an adult, and well past the age when anyone could keep him safe from all the dangers out there.

But this time?

No. No, he would not hurt his father by taking away this one cherished lie.

* * *

"It's not enough," Max whispered despondently as he watched Ava and Zan talking to each other in hushed voices, discussing the battle that had occurred, and everything that had happened since Ava had been kidnapped by Isabel. "We've defeated Khivar, but… it feels like it isn't enough."

"It isn't," Liz agreed solemnly. Skylar was with Kyle and Jim, Michael had taken Vilandra to Alex and Isabel, and Maria had gone back to talk to the others, to Kal and Serena and Aaron and Christy and everyone else.

They hadn't even had a chance to hold any kind of memorial service for Laurie.

Liz knew little about the other woman, having never really interacted with her. She knew only what she had been told, but she had been informed that Laurie was Michael's sister, his human family, and that was enough of a reason to feel grief and sorrow for her passing. Enough of a reason to know that they all were grieving for her loss, just like they were grieving for Tess.

And Tess, they would never be able to have any kind of service for. At least, not a public one. And not one that included Vilandra and Zan, the two who did not know the truth. They would have to grieve in silence, alone, unable to find comfort in anything, even each other.

Max was right, it wasn't enough.

But Maria had told Liz about her conversation with Skylar, including the admission that there was little she would not give for a second chance, for the ability to do it over again, and maybe this time get it right. And that gave Liz pause, gave her the beginnings of a plan, something that was really only an unformed, muddled vague inspiration with no real shape or form.

But it was something. A start. A place to begin.

"I just… I know I keep saying this, but I just wish we could fix this," Max said glumly.

Liz took a deep breath and said slowly, filled with a new sense of determination and hope, "I have an idea."


	19. To Begin Again

Title: When Times Collide

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Summary: When Max and Liz's daughter comes to the past seeking help, two times collide in a desperate race to save the future.

* * *

Chapter Nineteen: To Begin Again

They both rose at the sound of footsteps outside the room. She didn't know that, of course, but it was why both her parents were standing when she entered the room, Michael behind her. It was why they had both turned towards the door, her father with concern, her mother with trepidation.

She had told herself she would be strong. She had told herself that she could do this, that she could face the past and accept the lies without falling apart.

But if that was true, why was she frozen in the doorway? Why was she unable to move, as if the very sight of her mother had forced her feet to become rooted to the spot?

"Vilandra…" her father started, and she was dimly aware of her mother sinking backwards, leaning against the wall to support herself, of Michael slipping noiselessly from the room.

She wasn't looking at her father. She didn't need to be looking at him, she had long since memorized his features, and could easily predict that his pale blue eyes would be sunken and drawn, and his expression would be weary. She heard the emotion in his voice, choked back as it clouded his tone, made it heavy.

She didn't need to look at her father to know how upset, and how hopeful, he was.

She was staring instead at her mother.

Every line in her face was a deep groove exacerbated and accentuated by the paleness of her skin, the dark circles under her eyes. The eyes themselves, a tawny brown that swam with tears, stared back at her with a gaze of hunger, of longing. The posture was no longer the firm, erect stance of the woman Vilandra had met on the battlefield, the one who had kidnapped Ava. It was, instead, the crumpled, bewildered carriage of a lost child who had no idea what to do.

_This_ was her mother?

"Hi, Mom," Vilandra murmured, forcing the words into the silence of the room.

Isabel's answer was a whisper, diffident and feather-light, "Hello, Vilandra."

She'd been raised on tales of her mother. Long before she'd ever even been able to grasp what death was, long before she truly understood what her father meant when he said her mother was gone and not coming back, she had listened with wide eyes and abated breath to the stories her family would tell. Max's stories were always of a person larger than life, stronger than anything she could have ever imagined. Someone with fire and a temper and all the power of a goddess. Michael's tales were often tinged with humor, and his face would light up when he'd talk about her, about the messes they got themselves into and the comical ways she would get them out of trouble. And her father… those stories were always of a gentle and loving woman who practically embodied caring and kindness.

Nothing could have prepared her for the truth, for what her mother was now. How could this woman cringing before her be the same as the one from all those stories?

There was an awkward silence, then Alex expelled a breath and said, "Vilandra, we wanted to tell you…" He paused, a quick look at Isabel, and corrected himself, "I wanted to tell you. But your mother… we didn't know what would happen. We couldn't know, you understand. And it didn't seem…prudent."

They were jumbled words that probably had some meaning, but ended up falling on deaf ears. Vilandra couldn't tear her gaze away from her mother to look at her father, and could not really understand what he was saying. She'd heard the excuses before – from Michael, from all the others – and they meant little.

She'd been lied to her. All her life, she'd been lied to.

"I missed you," she whispered, a set of choked words breaking through the numbness of her thoughts. "All this time… eighteen years. I thought… that you were gone… I _missed_ you."

"Oh, Vilandra," Isabel answered, "I missed you, too."

At that, a bitter smile twisted Vilandra's features, and she remembered the bewildered look in mother's eyes when they faced off during the battle. _That_ woman had not missed her. _That_ woman didn't even know she existed.

"Did you?" she asked.

Isabel stepped back as though she had been slapped. Her eyes watered with tears, and Vilandra looked away, because the mother from her dreams, the one she had always imagined, did not cry.

"Vilandra," Alex said, and there was a sharpness to his tone.

She looked at him then, really looked at him for the first time since entering the hidden safe-house. He looked worn, exhausted, and yet underneath everything, there was also a faint happiness, a hope. As though for him, the world which had been broken for eighteen years, was not finally reformed, put together again.

It wasn't that simple. Not for her.

She had missed her mother, that much was true. But it was not the sharp, searing pain that lodged itself in her chest and refused to let go. It was a dull ache, something she thought about only on occasion. It would flare with the occasional burst of jealousy when she saw Zan with his parents, or Ava with hers before they'd been killed, and now, after they'd been brought back from the past. But for the most part, she'd come to accept the fact that her mother – a woman she didn't even remember – was gone.

Except she _wasn't_ gone.

"Its been eighteen years," she said, her words directed at both parents. "I don't know how you expect to just walk back into everything like you were never gone, but… it doesn't work like that. Not for me."

Her father might be at peace now, but her own nightmare of bewilderment and confusion was only just beginning.

"I'm not expecting us to make a perfect family unit," Isabel interjected quickly, before Alex could say anything. "But you're my daughter. I love you. And I want…"

"How can you love me?" Vilandra interrupted, the question ringing in the air with the firmness of her voice, the wide sweep of her eyes as they travelled between both parents before settling on her mother once more. "You don't even know me." She hesitated, then added the protest, "And I don't know you."

Another truth they didn't want to face. They were strangers, essentially.

"I'd like to get to know you," her mother said finally.

Vilandra nodded reluctantly. She wanted to know her mother as well, but… but part of her also didn't. Because her real mother, no matter how wonderful she might be, would never be as amazing as the mother she had built up in her mind, the woman who hung the stars and moon and sun in the sky and made the world turn, marking each passing day. The logical part was telling her that none of those attributes were real, that her fantasy was built on other people's rather exaggerated stories, but…

But the fantasy was all she had had for eighteen years, ands he was loathe to give it up now.

It was ironic, she reflected. She had always missed her mother. She had frequently wished that she could have a second chance, a moment in time in which to meet the woman who had been snatched from her so soon after her birth. How could she have known that when she actually got that chance, she'd have reservations about it, she'd be afraid?

"Why don't we just try to take things slowly?" Alex suggested, and she nodded mutely.

What else could they do?

_

* * *

_

Hatred was like a festering wound.

It burned and boiled and grew with every passing second, with every moment that it wasn't tended to, wasn't cleaned, wasn't treated. It spread, an infection of sorts, into the bloodstream. And from there it could wreak its havoc on the rest of the body, slowly fighting against the person's natural defenses until it had destroyed them all.

Kyle knew this.

He knew it, because he had never once stopped being angry at what he had lost. Since Tess had been taken, all those years ago, he had never had a moment without the anger, the hatred, the fury. He had pushed it back, focusing it on those who deserved the blame – Khivar, Nicolas, Nasedo – and keeping it away from his family and friends. He had forced himself to look past it, to ignore it when he could, so that it would not take away what limited joy he had left.

But now…

He watched as his father and his son sat across from each other. Jim was gazing into nothing, his eyes wandering unseeingly around the room. Skylar was running his hand over the smooth surface of the table, chatting in a low tone about something trivial and light, probably more to fill in the silence than anything else.

Isabel was back, Khivar was dead, the world was saved, and though they had a long, difficult, uphill battle ahead of them to rebuild the world, there was a chance that things would turn out well. For all of them.

And yet… and yet…

Jim was _still_ mentally incapacitated, unable to stay focused and coherent for more than a few seconds at a time, drifting around in a daze. Tess was still dead, or rather _actually_ dead, and Skylar was still without his mother.

Hatred was like a festering wound.

_

* * *

_

"Hey, Maria?"

Maria glanced at Liz. "Yes?"

"I was wondering…" Liz started, and then trailed off, a little worried. That alone should have given Maria a clue that this would be a serious conversation, but she was far too busy worrying about other problems. Michael had returned from taking Vilandra to Alex and Isabel, and though he had not actually said anything about it to her, she could tell by the look on his features that the first meeting had been tense and worrisome.

So she had that to worry about.

And then she and Michael had gone with Max into a meeting with several other members of the Resistance, and that had not gone well, to say the least. There had been yelling, and high tempers, and conflicts, and she'd left only thirty or forty minutes after the meeting had started. Michael would probably be there all day, dealing with everyone's high-strung emotions and opinions.

She'd known, intellectually, that it would not be easy to right all the wrongs that had occurred while Khivar was in control. There was so much damage, and probably a lot of it could not be repaired. But a lot of it could, and she had so strongly believed that all it would take was perseverance and stubbornness.

But now that she was actually facing the reality of the situation, it was overwhelming. There was no much anger, so much suspicion, and so many different ideas and opinions that simply could not be resolved into one formula or plan.

She sighed and looked at Liz again. "What were you wondering?" she asked, and silently prayed that it would not end up being yet another problem to add to her never-ending list.

"Is this a bad time?" Liz asked, folding her arms over her chest and eyeing Maria.

The blonde shook her head, feeling a little guilty for letting her emotions show so blatantly on her face. "No, of course not. I'm stressed, but what else is new?" She gestured for Liz to follow her and made her way through the corridors towards the relative privacy of one of the rooms.

She didn't know yet just how private they would need to keep this conversation, and all the subsequent ones that occurred after Liz outlined the beginnings of her plan. But she did know that the last thing she wanted was to be dragged into yet another argument, and as long as she stayed somewhere where members of the Resistance could see her, that was bound to happen.

She closed the door behind her. "What's up?"

"How are Max and I getting home?" Liz asked.

Maria stared at her blankly. She honestly hadn't given that idea any thought, at least not more vague and simple passing concern. But, of course, Liz was right. She and Max had to return home, because if they didn't, then the future would be ruined. If they didn't return to their own time, then there would be no Max and Liz in that time, which would mean that everything would get rewritten…

Maria shivered a little nervously. "That's more of a question for Serena," she said finally. "She's the one who understands this sort of thing. She'd be able to help."

Liz frowned, a scrutinizing look. She was studying Maria's face, and the blonde had no idea why, no idea what exactly Liz was looking for. Whatever it was, she didn't seem to find it, because she sighed and shook her head, looking away.

"But there is a way for us to get home, right?" Liz asked. "Back to our own time?"

"Of course," Maria said smoothly, although she knew she was lying. Well, perhaps lying was too strong of a word. There could be a way for Max and Liz to get back, she didn't know. But that was the point – Liz was looking for reassurance, and she simply didn't know if she had any to offer.

"Because… I had an idea." Liz glanced at the closed door. "If it was possible for Max and I to chose a point in time… not necessarily our own time… I haven't quite worked out all the details yet, but… I had an idea. I think… I think I know how to fix this. How to make it better."

Intrigued, Maria gestured for Liz to continue.

After Liz had finished explaining it all, or, at least, explaining as much as she could of her not-yet fully formed idea, Maria found herself unsure exactly how to proceed. She agreed with Liz that this was a good plan, or at least as good of a plan as they were going to come up with at the moment, and that was really all that mattered to her.

But it wouldn't be the only thing that mattered to the others, and that was the problem. She was sure Max would reluctantly agree, as would Isabel and Kyle. Alex she was less sure about, because he had just finally gained what he had thought was lost forever, and he might not be willing to take a chance that things could turn out worse. Michael, too, would have reservations, concerns about the safety of all of it.

And the others? The humans? Somehow she doubted people like Aaron would willingly agree to leave the fate of the entire world in the hands of Max and Liz.

She ran a hand through her short hair, almost surprised with herself at the words she was about to utter. She had never truly liked the idea of lying to the other members of the Resistance, though she understood its importance when it came to things such as Isabel's true identity, and the fact that she was still alive. But those lies could not really hurt anyone else, because Isabel was no longer a threat, and people didn't _need_ to know she was alive.

But she was now considering lying about Liz's plan, and that was so much more than just a white lie to protect the people she loved. This was a lie about a plan that could change the entire future, rewrite history and create a world so completely different from the one they currently inhabited. Hopefully the change would be for the better – because at this point she really couldn't imagine how it could be much worse – but was that enough to justify lying?

And yet… what other choice did they have?

Finally, she said, "Don't tell anyone this plan, Liz." Her words were serious, and thankfully Liz just nodded, accepting Maria's request with ease. "We'll talk about it with Max, Michael, and Kyle later tonight. And eventually Isabel and Alex if we can find a way to get to them without our disappearance causing too much suspicion. But not anyone else, not yet."

"Alright," Liz answered simply.

Maria let out a slow breath and sent a silent prayer to whoever or whatever was listening that this plan would actually work.

_

* * *

_Zan was watching Ava.

His eyes never left her as she paced nervously back and forth across the floor of the room, then sank onto the bed with a tired sigh. He continued to stare as she rose again, nervously wringing her hands and biting her lower lip, her own gaze continually darting back and forth across the room, waiting for something. Skylar was leaning against the wall with an unreadable expression, occasionally looking over at Ava, but Zan paid little attention to the other boy, having only eyes for Ava.

He could tell how upset she was. He didn't know what it was that upset her, and it bothered him that he wasn't able to offer any words of comfort, to tell her that everything would be okay. He knew everything wasn't going to be okay, even though they had won, even though they had finally defeated the enemy, even though Aunt Isabel was somehow miraculously back. He knew that everything wasn't going to be okay, and that knowledge left him with the bitter aftertaste of concern and despair.

The door opened finally, and Ava spun around as Vilandra entered. The older of the two girls paused as she saw the others all waiting for her, and a faint smile creased the lines around her eyes. She looked exhausted, Zan noted, and worn out. But she also looked… hopeful?

"How did it go?" Ava asked breathlessly.

Vilandra shrugged and shut the door firmly behind her, making sure that they would not overheard. "It was… weird. I don't know. I mean… she's my mother. But… but she's also not. Not really. You know?"

The words were soft, and the final question was more a plea for understanding than anything else. Zan felt himself nodding with agreement, with sympathy, even as his eyes swung back to Ava. Ava was trying to smile, but her gaze slipped to Skylar and her expression fell ever so slightly.

Zan wondered at that, but said nothing. Vilandra came further into the room, sinking onto the bed as Skylar crossed to her side. Ava ended up leaning against the wall, and Zan did not move from his position on the edge of the chair across from them.

"Are my Dad and Uncle Alex back?" Zan asked finally.

Vilandra looked at him and nodded. "Yeah. They left… my mother… by herself for a little while. So that they could handle things here. I think my Dad is going to go back later tonight, or maybe tomorrow. I… I don't know." She lowered her gaze as she spoke, but not before Zan saw the troubled, conflicted look in her eyes.

He understood. She wanted to be happy that her mother was back, but it wasn't that easy. Starting over was never easy, they all knew that. There were complications that had no simple solution, and problems that could not be predicted, could not be foreseen.

"Do you know… I mean… did anyone say how it is going to work?" Skylar asked, brushing a few strands of Vilandra's dark hair out of her eyes. "With your mother not being able to come back, to show herself to anyone…"

"For right now, she's just going to stay in hiding. Once things have settled down, maybe in a few weeks, or months… maybe a year, I don't know… we'll try to find some place out of the way… where no one will really know who we are… and she and Dad and I will all live there, I guess." She did not sound thrilled by the plan, though she forced a smile as she spoke.

A smile that Zan thought looked a lot more like a grimace.

All of a sudden, the smile disappeared, and Vilandra gave a choked laugh and shook her head. She buried her head in her hands, hair falling over her face. Her words were muffled as she said darkly, and with a tinge of irony in her tone, "I should be happy, right? I have a chance to live with both my parents. This is what I've wanted for… well… for forever."

But it wasn't the same, Zan knew. After all this time, they'd gotten used to living with each other, with their parents and aunts and uncles, and with everyone else in the Resistance. Even the humans, the annoying ones like Aaron or Christy who were continually questioning the aliens, questioning how trustworthy they were… they were still family. Community. The idea of living away from them, away from everything they had ever known, everything they could remember…

It wasn't easy to accept.

"I once asked Uncle Kyle what the world was like before the war," Ava murmured, staring at Vilandra with a empathetic expression. "He described it, but… I couldn't understand. Even now… it doesn't make sense to me. I can't grasp that the world could really be any different." Again, a quick glance to Skylar, an almost guilty expression, before she continued, "Now we have this wonderful opportunity to start over and I… I don't know. I don't know how I am supposed to… to feel about it."

"I love my mother," Vilandra said staunchly, and with so much emotion that no one could doubt the feeling, the truth, behind her words. But then she faltered, the words catching in her throat, and though she looked up, she could not meet anyone's gaze as she muttered, "I just… wish it was… different, somehow."

"Don't we all," Skylar said with a bitter laugh.

Ava started and gave him a shrewd look, and Zan frowned, wondering what was happening, what silent communication was going on above his head. Skylar wasn't looking at Ava, but their was a tension in the line of his jaw, a determined look in his eyes as though he was somehow forcing himself not to meet the younger girl's silently questioning gaze.

Vilandra seemed completely oblivious. She folded her arms around herself and leaned against Skylar, who wrapped his own arm around her shoulders. She rested her head on his chest, and Ava came to sit on the edge of the bed next to them, followed a moment later by Zan.

"You get your mother back, and all the complications that come with that," Ava whispered, "and I'm probably going to lose my own mother soon, and I'll have to deal with all the complications of that."

Vilandra glanced at her, and asked, "When do Uncle Max and Aunt Liz go back to their own time?"

Ava shrugged. "I don't know," she admitted. "No one is really talking about it, but it has to be soon, right? Khivar is dead, they finished what they came here to do, and now… they can't stay forever. Even though I wish they could."

"I'm sorry," Vilandra murmured.

Ava shrugged, a faint smile on her lips. "Aren't we all?" she replied, shaking her head slowly, her gaze moving between Vilandra and Skylar.

Slowly, Zan reached out and linked his fingers through Ava's, holding her hand in his own. She gave him a watery, hesitant smile, which he returned as best he could. Then he continued to watch her as she turned her attention back to Vilandra and Skylar, her light eyes filled with sympathy and pain.

_

* * *

_Liz glanced around the room, trying to read the expressions of the others gathered before her. Max was smiling supportively, obviously agreeing with her plan. Whether it was because he actually agreed with the plan, or just because he trusted her so completely, she could not be sure. But she appreciated the support regardless of the reason, and she reached out and squeezed his hand tightly, smiling.

Maria, too, was nodding in agreement, as Liz knew she would, given that she had already heard and agreed to the plan before this meeting. She was standing next to Serena, and the human seemed a little bit concerned, though perhaps not as worried as Liz had expected. It was obvious that she did not particularly like the secrecy surrounding this, but she had not verbally protested it yet.

Alex looked hesitant, reluctant, worried. His blue eyes were clouded with fear, with all the possibilities of what could go wrong. He had remained quiet throughout Liz's entire explanation, but that was more a reflection of his patient and reasonable personality, and not because he actually agreed with what she was suggesting. She wasn't sure what he thought of it, beyond the concern for any mistakes they might make, and she did not know what it would take to convince him that it was the best option they had.

Michael, too, seemed worried. He had once been rash, unpredictable, even reckless. He could still act that way on occasion, of course, but Liz had seen also that he was much less likely to risk someone else's safety than his own. He was worried for the future, though his caution could possibly be overcome by reasoning and logic.

In contrast to Michael and Alex, Kyle seemed pleased. He had nodded continually throughout Liz's entire explanation, and a look of anticipation had fallen over his features. Liz understood that he was eager to do this, because he had the most of any of them to gain by fixing this. But his obvious eagerness to accept the plan might not be a good thing, she knew, because it was just as equally obvious that he had not really thought through the ramifications of this.

"Well?" she asked finally. "What do you think?"

"I think it is worth a shot," Kyle said instantly.

His words were tempered by Alex's more hesitant comment, "I think we need to discuss the details of this a bit more. A lot can go wrong, and I'd rather not make the wrong choice." To Serena, he questioned, "You're sure this can be done?"

"Harnessing the remaining power of the Granolith?" she asked. "Yes, I'm sure. It might take a little while, and I'll need to work out some kinks in it, but… it can be done."

"But if the energy was already displaced…" Alex started, and Serena interrupted him quickly.

"Energy doesn't disappear, Alex. You know that. It's basic physics, we don't have the ability to destroy the conserved products of the world. Mass, energy… It was probably converted into thermal energy." To the others, she added, "My understanding of the Granolith – and this is limited by the fact that we don't know as much about Antarian technology as I would like – is that it was only the vehicle for the energy. It is gone, of course, but the energy… think of it like an echo. It's there, we just have to find it."

"Was that supposed to make sense to us?" Michael grouched, and Serena rolled her eyes at him.

"The point is that Serena believes it can be done," Maria said wearily, shooting Michael an annoyed look, "and that is what matters. I assume that we all trust Serena on this, because not even Liz or Alex can match her when it comes to science."

There was a grumbling of assent from the others, and Liz smiled.

"I agree with Alex, though," Michael said. "Even if this _can_ be done, we still need to think about whether or not it should be."

"Why would we not want to try it?" Kyle demanded heatedly.

"If we didn't have reservations about this plan," Alex answered softly before Michael could reply, "then we wouldn't be so reluctant to share it with the rest of the Resistance."

"That's not the same thing," Kyle snapped, "and you know it. The reason we don't want to share it with everyone else is that they will never agree with it. They aren't going to trust Max and Liz enough to let them completely change the future, even if those changes are all for the best. They don't like or trust us enough to give us that kind of free reign."

"But isn't that kind of the point?" Serena pointed out with a frown. "Max and Liz will be irrevocably changing everything. It's dangerous, and risky, and we don't know what could go wrong. Of course people here are going to wonder if it is a good idea. _I'm_ wondering if it is a good idea."

"Max and Liz are trustworthy," Kyle answered. "It isn't like they are going to go back in time and arrange to have the entire world taken over by aliens so that they can reign supreme."

"Nobody is worried about _that_," Serena argued.

"Aren't they?" Kyle countered, and Liz knew he had a point. Though she didn't know the human members of the Resistance all that well, she had seen how suspicious they could be. It was clear that they cared deeply about each other, and about the aliens who fought alongside them. But they also harbored some irrational fear and distrust, a byproduct of living in a world that had been torn apart by an alien war.

"Look," Michael said firmly, "it is dangerous. And we do need to discuss the things that could go wrong."

"Fine," Kyle said ungraciously. "Then why don't we also discuss the things that could go _right_?"

"We could end up getting ourselves killed," Michael said levelly. "We could cause the skins to attack earlier, when we _really_ aren't prepared. We could erase our children, somehow change it so that they aren't conceived."

"We could save our parents," Kyle answered. "We could prevent Isabel and Tess from turning, we could keep Tess from dying. We could save Max and Liz. Isn't that worth taking a few little risks?"

"Accidently erasing my son is hardly a _little_ risk," Michael retorted fiercely.

"You don't know that will happen," Kyle snapped.

"And you don't know that this will work. You don't know that we will be able to save Tess!"

"Maybe not," Kyle spat, "but at least I am willing to try."

"It isn't like I'm not willing to try," Michael argued tensely, his eyes narrowed angrily, "but I am not about to lose everyone I love on the off-chance that we can save her."

It happened so quickly, that Liz had no chance to react before Kyle and physically grabbed Michael and slammed him against the wall with a resounding thud. His face was suffused with blood, red-hot rage in his eyes. Michael, too, looked furious, livid, and had reached out to seize Kyle's wrists. The two looked remarkably close to having this turn into an all-out brawl.

"What are you doing?" Maria cried, moving forward and trying to pull the two apart. "Stop it!"

They ignored her.

"You aren't thinking clearly!" Michael hissed, trying to shove Kyle away from him. "You're too blinded by what you want to happen to see what the risks are." Kyle wouldn't let go, and Michael was forced to elbow him in the stomach to free himself from the other's vice-like grasp.

"Stop it!" Maria said again, this time joined by Liz and Serena. Still, neither seemed to be paying any attention to the others in the room.

Kyle doubled over wheezing, then looked up at Michael and said coldly, "And you're too blinded by fear to take any chances at all. You have Maria, Michael. And Zan. Your family is still intact. But some of us… me… Ava… we're not as lucky."

"You're not the only one who lost Tess," Michael countered, "and Ava is not the only one who lost Max and Liz."

Without hesitation, Kyle asked simply, "Then why am I the only one who is willing to take the chance to bring them back?" And without waiting for a response, he walked from the room.

Liz watched him go, her expression wary, worried. In the five stages of grief, Kyle seemed perpetually stuck on anger.


	20. Leave It All Behind

Title: When Times Collide

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Summary: When Max and Liz's daughter comes to the past seeking help, two times collide in a desperate race to save the future.

* * *

Chapter Twenty: Leave It All Behind

He didn't have to look up to know it was Liz.

Even after all this time, even given the fact that she had died, had been dead for years, he still could recognize the faint tingling sensation that ran through his spine when she entered the room. She'd been the first girl he had ever really cared about, and certainly the first he would ever admit to loving. Platonic, of course, because after he met Tess it was as though every other girl in the world had faded away, turned into nothing more than memories of friendship…

But Liz still held a special place in his heart.

Maybe that was why he did not slam the door in her face when she hovered in the doorway of the room.

Instead, he ran a hand through his hair and, keeping his eyes carefully averted from her face, asked wearily, "What do you want, Liz?"

"World peace," Liz answered with hesitation. At one point in time, that comment would have elicited a smile from him, but right now, he just blinked and shook it off, strangely annoyed by the simple truth of that fact.

They _all_ wanted world peace.

"How are you doing?" Liz asked after a moment of silence, after it became clear that Kyle had no intention of responding to her teasing comment. He heard her step further into the room as she asked the question, and he glanced at her quickly, a sharp, sidelong look. She was staring back, her expression pensive.

He shrugged, as eloquent of an answer as he could manage at the moment.

"You know that Michael and Alex… they do want to fix this. They're just… worried," Liz murmured. "They're worried because…"

"Because they still have something left to lose," Kyle finished, his tone bitter.

Liz bit her lip as she frowned, then argued, "No. Because they understand that this is dangerous. It isn't as though they would be willing to take the risks for Maria and Isabel, but not for Tess. It is that they are worried about the risks, _period_."

Kyle honestly wasn't sure about that. He was under no delusions about how important Tess was to the others. She was family, and they all cared about her. In his anger, he could occasionally convince himself that they didn't care, that they never had and never would, but he _knew_ that wasn't true. Those old, hurt feelings had been addressed and healed a long time ago.

Or, at least, he thought they had.

But he also knew that Liz wasn't right. That is the situation was reversed, if it was Maria who was gone, or Isabel who couldn't be saved… Michael and Alex would agree to this plan in a heartbeat. Not because they didn't care about Tess. Not because they didn't love each and every one of the eight hybrids. Not because they weren't all family.

But because the risk a person was willing to take for their soul mate was always infinitely greater than the risks they would take for anyone else… except possibly their own children.

And anyone who said otherwise was either lying to themselves, or lying to everyone else.

But if Liz wanted to argue that it was all about risks, that was fine. He looked at her, giving her his full attention, and said fiercely, "Don't you think the risks are worth it? We're not talking about something small, Liz. We're talking about the entire world. Multiple worlds, actually. How many more are going to end up destroyed before Michael and Alex realize that it is worth it?"

"This plan could make things worse," Liz argued.

He rose to his feet and turned towards her, arms folded over his chest. "This was your plan, Liz. You wouldn't have suggested it if you didn't think it was worth it. So don't stand there and try to argue with me on this. Don't pretend that you think Michael and Alex are right."

"Fine," Liz said, her tone sharp and a little harsh. Splotches of color had appeared on her cheeks, and she took a breath, obviously trying to keep calm. Kyle had the feeling that she hadn't come here to argue with him, that she really just wanted to magically smooth over all the problems.

Didn't she realize that not everything could be fixed?

"I just think… you all need to give each other the benefit of the doubt," she said finally, in an even tone. "Trust that you all want the same thing. A better world."

He bit back the urge to sneer. He didn't want to upset Liz, not really. The brunette still meant far too much to him to say or do anything that could carelessly cause her tears. He loved her, and she deserved better than that.

"So basically, you're here to tell me I was wrong to get mad at Michael and I should go apologize?' he muttered, running a hand through his hair. The fight drained out of him as quickly at it had come, and he slumped against the wall.

"Michael didn't deserve to get hit," she said softly. "You shouldn't have done that. You shouldn't have gotten angry at him."

He sighed. It was just another reminder that even though she looked and spoke and acted like the Liz that he remembered, she wasn't that woman. Not yet, not really. She would become that woman in time, become the fighter, the mother, the queen, that he respected and loved. But right now, she was still, for all intents and purposes, a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old girl. She might think she understood this world, she might think she knew what war did to people, but she didn't get it. Not really.

And he was thankful for that. He hoped she never had to experience it, never had to live through the same nightmare that had plagued all of them. Maybe her plan would work and they could fix this and things would be different. Better. Happier.

But for right now, she just didn't – _couldn't_ – understand.

He wasn't angry with Michael or Alex. He knew he shouldn't have physically attached Michael the way he had, and he had known that at the time. He was not angry at either of them.

He was just angry.

He was angry when he thought of Tess' cold smirk as she taunted him, he was angry when he thought of Skylar's jealous expression at the idea that Vilandra had a second chance with her mother, he wan angry when he tried to speak with his father and found the conversation was filled with gibberish and other things he did not understand, he was angry when he remembered that Ava had asked him what a world was like if it wasn't at war, he was angry at everyone one of Aaron or Christy's muttered comments about the aliens not be completely trustworthy, he was angry…

He was just angry. Period.

That was what war did to people.

And he silently prayed that Liz would never have the need to understand that.

"I just… I don't want everyone else's fears to hold us back," Kyle said finally.

"Well, like you said, it is a challenge for Michael and Alex to accept this because they have so much to lose. You know what it feels like to lose someone you love… can you blame them for being cautious?"

Kyle frowned, and thought briefly of Skylar. "The thing is, Liz," he said finally, "it isn't as though they are the only ones who are taking a risk. I still have someone else to lose as well."

_

* * *

_"How can you not agree with her plan?"

Alex groaned inwardly at Isabel's comment and shot a helpless look at Max. The two of them had left the Resistance Base to explain everything to Isabel, to fill her in on the details of Liz's idea. She had listened quietly to everything Alex had said, she had asked a few questions of her own, and now she seemed to be fully in support of this risky and chaotic plan.

It annoyed Alex.

"Isabel, don't you see how dangerous this is?' he asked, trying once more to get her to understand his reservations. He hesitated, watching her carefully, then said, "I don't want… I don't want to take the risk of screwing it all up, Of… of…" _Of losing you so soon after I found you again._

He didn't say the words aloud, but Isabel lowered her gaze, a silent signal that she knew exactly what he had been trying to say. But even so, even understanding his fear and his worry, she did not change her opinion.

Stubbornly, she said, "It's worth it."

Alex took a few steps into the room and looked around. Isabel hadn't left the room that he had taken her to when they first arrived at the safe-house. It seemed as though she had been too afraid of what she would find on the other side of the door. He wanted to assure her that there was nothing here that could hurt her, no enemies to be afraid of, but he knew it wasn't that simple. For Isabel, there were still enemies, but they were mostly within the confines of her own mind.

Before he could say anything, however, Max spoke. "He just wants to make sure you aren't ignoring the risks because of… because of your past." His words were soft, delicate, as he danced around the subject that neither of them really wanted to mention.

Isabel slanted a quick look at Max, and then sighed and looked away. Alex rubbed his eyes and tried to figure out what to say next.

Isabel wouldn't say it aloud, and Max wouldn't ever press the subject, even if he had been brave enough to mention it. But Alex knew, they all knew, why Isabel was so adamantly in favor of this plan. If it worked, she would never have to deal with what had happened. She would never become Khivar's wife, never become a killer. A murderer. A traitor. That was what she was so desperate to erase, to change, and he wished he could assure her that the plan would work perfectly and she would never have to face these horrible memories.

But it wasn't that simple. Nothing ever was. And there _were_ risks.

"If the past hadn't… if things hadn't happened the way they did… would you still support this?" Alex asked finally. "Would you still think it was worth the risk?"

"It is worth it," Isabel protested. "How can you not see that?"

"You're only saying that because…" Alex started, but Isabel cut him off sharply.

"What if I am? What if my reason for agreeing with this plan is because I spent the last eighteen years working for the enemy? Kyle's reason for agreeing with this is because Tess is dead. Max and Liz like it because they are both dead. If you ask Ava an Skylar, they'll probably support it as well, for those same reasons. If there was any other way of doing this, of fixing what happened, we would take it. But there _isn't_ another way."

"What if it makes things worse, Isabel? What if we end up erasing Vilandra? What if she is never born? What if somehow it changes things so that we can't save you? Khivar still gets to you and…" He stopped, took a breath. His heart was racing, rapidly pumping blood through his veins, and he had to fight back the urge to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until she could see his point of view.

Isabel murmured softly, "Do you really think that is what will happen?"

"I don't know," Alex answered honestly. "But it could happen, and you don't seem to understand that."

"I understand," Isabel countered, her voice still soft, but now underlined with a hard steel. "Believe me, I do understand the risks. But why won't you even consider the possibility that things could get better?"

Alex didn't say anything.

Max spoke again, this time in a firmer tone. "For what it's worth, I don't think you'll erase Vilandra. Some things are just meant to be, and all of us being together… that's one of those things. And I think… I think that Ava, Vilandra, Skylar, and Zan are all meant to be also. I don't think we will erase them."

It wasn't a whole lot of comfort, but it was all he was offered at the moment, so Alex took it with a slow nod of his head and discontented sigh.

_

* * *

_"Maria! Kyle attacked me. How the hell am I the one you're upset with?" the hybrid General fumed, eyes darkening as he glared at his wife. "I hit him in self-defense. I was just trying to get him to let go of me. He started it."

"What are you? Five? This isn't a playground and 'he started it' doesn't work anymore," Maria retorted. Despite the fact that Michael was much taller than her and already shaking with anger and frustration, she would never allow herself to be intimidated by him. She was too stubborn, and to brash, for that.

They were in their bedroom, arguing. Alex and Max had gone to talk to Isabel, and Maria had no idea where Liz was. Kyle, she assumed, was off sulking somewhere, or, hopefully, thinking through his anger and coming to terms with everything. She was doubtful that he would manage that, but…

They had so many problems to deal with at the moment, and they needed Kyle thinking clearly again. They needed to know he wouldn't completely lose it the next time he was faced with someone who wouldn't listen to his point of view. Attacking someone like Aaron in the middle of a meeting could just about ruin everything.

On the other hand…

"Look, Michael, you're family," she said evenly. "You of all people should have at least tried to understand what Kyle was saying, and where he was coming from."

"Well, maybe he should try to do the same for the rest of us," Michael snapped. He knew Maria was partially right, because of all the people Kyle would ever have to deal with, it was the other hybrids who he should have been able to trust to be sympathetic to his current emotional state. But this wasn't just about sympathy. This plan had the ability to make things worse as well, and he simply wasn't willing to risk erasing his own son or losing his own wife.

"If it was me that had died," Maria said, sinking on the bed and staring at her husband, "would you think differently?"

Michael was at least honest enough not to immediately deny what she was implying. He truthfully didn't know what he would think if it was Maria who had been killed. He'd want her back – desperately – but would he want her back at the risk of losing everyone else? Losing Zan?

Instead, he asked pointedly, "If it was you who had died, would you want us to take the chance of bringing you back, but losing someone else? Your life in exchange for one of ours? For Zan?"

The answer to that was obvious, and Maria did not even bother replying. She would never have agreed to a plan that could save her at the cost of someone else. Especially not a family member, not one of the people that she loved more than anyone or anything else in the world.

And definitely not her own son.

"I just…" She let out a slow breath and leaned back against the wall, pulling her knees into her chest. "Max and Liz will go back, and then… then they won't be here. We'll have to go back to a world without them, and I don't…" Again, she stopped, and felt the burning sensation of tears pricking at her eyes. "I don't know, Michael. I get Kyle's point of view, I see why he wants to do this. I don't know if I can go through losing Liz all over again."

Michael sat down next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in towards his chest. She leaned her head against him, blonde strands of hair falling in front of her eyes.

"I guess it all comes down to whether or not you think this plan will work," she murmured. "And Liz thinks it will. I guess… I guess that's enough for me. I trust her. And if she says that… that she has a feeling about this… about it working…" She gave a little shrug and trailed off with a sigh.

Liz did have premonitions as her main gift, Michael reasoned silently to himself. She hadn't yet tapped into that particular power since being here, but maybe this was just a more subtle way of the gift showing itself. She did keep claiming that she could just somehow _feel_ that this would work, that it would save them.

Maybe this was something like a premonition. Maybe Maria was right, and the only thing that should matter in this decision was how much he trusted Liz.

"I hate this," Maria continued in a low whisper. "It's over and we won. But nothing… nothing's right. Isabel has to live in hiding, Tess is dead, Max and Liz are _still_ dead… We can't even really be happy that it is over. I just want… I just want to be happy. Is that too much to ask?"

_

* * *

_They gathered again, again without Isabel. The room was silent, tense, the air heavy with the lingering frustrations and hurt feelings. Kyle and Michael made a point of standing on opposite sides of the room, and though they did not exchange hard words or sharp glares, the enmity was still there. Maria stood next to Michael, though her gaze kept sliding towards Kyle, and her eyes were filled with sympathy. Alex stood away from all of them, arms folded over his chest, expression weary and closed.

Max looked at them all, then looked at Liz. If anything, the tension in the room was only further convincing him that they needed to do this, needed to put this plan into action. It seemed to be the only thing that would bring them together again.

"Isabel supports the idea," Alex said softly, shaking his head.

"So Isabel, Max, Liz, and I are all for it," Kyle said, his eyes moving from Alex to Michael as though daring the other to contradict what he was saying. "That's four votes to three."

"This isn't… we shouldn't even be voting," Michael replied. "This isn't a case of majority rules. This will affect all of us, and… we need to be in agreement."

"And you're wrong, Kyle," Maria spoke up, giving him a pointed look. "It's six votes to two. I am in favor of the plan also."

Max slanted a quick, wondering look at Maria, but said nothing. He couldn't help but be surprised, however, at her decision. She had been reluctant to agree during their previous conversation, even though she was the one who had called the meeting in the first place, the one who had heard Liz's plan and decided that everyone else needed to think about it also. He had assumed she was hesitant to take such a great risk, given that she still had her family intact. And he had assumed she was reluctant to side against her husband.

He supposed he should have known better. He might not know this version of Maria as well as the others did, but she could not have changed that much from when they were younger. And _that_ Maria… well, she never backed down, never compromised what she believed in, even if it meant standing up to her friends and Michael.

Michael was looking at Alex. Max turned his attention away from the pixie blonde and her husband and looked over at Alex as well. The soft-spoken hybrid still looked torn, but he gave a slow nod of his head.

"Alright," he murmured.

Max had a feeling it was because of Isabel. She'd done a number on him before, that much was obvious. Even during their first few encounters in high school, Max had seen the way Alex looked at her with awe and longing. It was clear that he had desperately loved her since before she even realized that he had those feelings, and she was still able to stun him with a few words or a simple glance.

He had initially opposed the plan because of her, because he could not stand the possibility of losing her, of having her fate turn out worse than it already had. And now, also because of Isabel, he'd take a chance on this plan, run the risk of losing everything he held dear so that she had the opportunity to get what she wanted most.

But Michael was the last hold out.

"I just want to make sure that we've through this through," he said slowly, evenly.

"Everyone else agrees," Kyle snapped. "Why can't you just…"

"Because it isn't that simple, and someone has to make you slow down and think this through," Michael retorted, cutting in before Kyle could finish the sentence. "This isn't about voting or which side has the most support. We are all in this together and we need to…"

"The hell we are in this together," Kyle hissed. "You're still just upset that…"

"Would you just shut up and listen to me for a moment?"

"Why? You never listened to a word I said!"

"Maybe because you were too busy _attacking_ me."

"Stop it!"

It was Liz's voice, high-pitched and upset, that cut through the room and caused a sudden quiet. She was staring at all of them with wide eyes, tears threatening to leak down her cheeks. Max tentatively reached out to her, tried to take her hand, but she wasn't looking at him, and she did not respond to his offered support.

"You need to stop," she said, her voice lower, and lined with a cold, hard metal. Her words were even, measured, and her tone allowed for no interruptions. "This is not helping. You need to stop, _now_. Both of you. All of you."

Max heard Michael's sharp intake of breath, saw the way Kyle lowered his gaze and frowned. He didn't know what either was thinking, had no way of knowing that at that moment, both were uneasily facing the fact that they had seen a glimmer of Queen Ava of Antar in Liz's glittering eyes.

"Lizzie," Maria murmured, and that was enough to break the silence, the stunned trance, that had fallen.

Liz blinked away the tears and said, "I thought you were stronger than this. I thought _we_ were stronger than this. We could survive Tess and Isabel turning evil, all our parents dying, the world turning into this war-torn, unrecognizable place… but not this? Is this what is going to finally drive us apart? This plan? This idea? Is this what will do what Khivar never could and break the group?"

"Michael isn't disagreeing with you," Maria said, giving Kyle a sharp look that did not go unnoticed by Max. "He just thinks… and I agree with him… that we need to really talk about this. To discuss all the possible details… so that we can be sure that we get it right."

"Fine," Kyle said, a little ungraciously, "then let's talk. Let's discuss it all."

_

* * *

_She knew what would happen the moment they entered her room.

She'd been waiting for it, actually, because ever since the end of the war, ever since they had returned from the fight against Khivar, her parents and the others had been talking, meeting in secret, holding hushed conversations or private conferences. And that could only mean one thing.

Her mother and father were going home.

So when they walked into her room, she already knew what they were going to say, and she was ready for it.

"Hi, Ava," her mother started, then stopped rather abruptly, trailing off and frowning.

Her father stepped further into the room, then came to her side and said, "We're here because… well…"

"You're leaving," she said, and marveled at the fact that her voice did not waver and her courage did not disappear. She stood still, staring at them, drawing breath after breath as though the world was not crumbling around her, as though she did not, once more, have to say goodbye to the people that she loved, the people that she had lost.

"Yes," her mother said. "We're going back to our time."

"It's okay," she said when she saw the tears glimmering in her mother's eyes, when she watched the darkness drop over her father's expression. It _wasn't_ okay, not really. And it never would be. But they didn't need to know that, and if she could offer any comfort at all, she would.

She was their daughter, after all, and she loved them. She loved them so much that it hurt, that it abruptly took her breath away and left her feeling light-headed and weak with the knowledge that they would go – return to their own time – and she would once more be left behind in a world that no longer had them.

"I knew you would have to," she continued bravely. "I knew that you would need to return to your time, that you couldn't stay here. You… you don't belong in this time."

"Oh, Ava… you are a wonder," her mother said. She came closer, quickly pulling Ava into a tight hug, and said breathlessly, "I can't wait to watch you grow up."

Ava responded with a laugh that quickly turned into a choked sob, and she said through her own tears, "You already did, Mom." Then she wrapped her arms around her mother, hugging her back, hugging as tightly as she could. Her mother was warm, made of flesh and blood, so very much alive. And in a heartbeat, in a moment, all of that would change.

The tears came harder, even as she tried to keep them at bay.

Her mother let go and stepped away, and she looked at her father. He was smiling and his eyes were dry, but she could still see the pain that rested so clearly in his tawny eyes. She wanted to tell him that everything would be okay, but the words got stuck in her throat.

"I'll miss you," he said, hugging her gently. His hug was not as tight as her mother's, not as desperate. He didn't cling to her, and he was the first to draw back. He was trying to be brave for her, just like she was trying to be brave for him, and the irony of the situation was almost funny enough to stop her tears.

Almost.

"You'll see me in a few years, Dad," she promised, and he gave a bittersweet smile as an answer.

"I'm counting on it," he answered, and there was something in his tone that gave her pause, something that she couldn't quite identify. It was as though he was thinking of something else, but she didn't press him on it. Honestly, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"It'll be okay," she said.

Then he did laugh, and shook his head, Gesturing to her mother, he said, "We're the parents, Ava. Shouldn't Liz and I be the ones telling you that it will be okay?"

"You already did," she answered without thinking, her mind flashing backwards in time, settling on the last memory she had of her parents, on the way her father had knelt down and put his hands one either cheek, cupping her face, and promised that he wouldn't ever let anything happen to her.

Only a short time after that, and both her parents were dead.

"I love you," she said, looking from her father to her mother. "I love you so much."

"Oh, Ava…" her mother pulled her into anther hug, and she felt her father's hands resting on her shoulders, "we love you, too. And we're so proud of you. And… we'll miss you."

"Don't worry," her father said, "it will all be okay."

She nodded, but she knew that wasn't true. She knew, because she had lived in this world, lived in a world without them. And she knew that it wouldn't ever be okay. She loved her Uncle Michael and Aunt Maria, she adored Uncle Alex and Uncle Kyle and Grandpa Jim. She cared deeply for Skylar and Vilandra, and she thought she might sort of be falling for Zan. And she knew, in time, she would love her Aunt Isabel as well. But it wasn't the same without her parents, and having them here had only made her so much more aware of how very true that was.

That was hardest part of the plan, the hardest thing she'd ever had to accept. But when she had set foot into the Granolith, when she had allowed herself to be ripped from this time and cast recklessly into another, she had faced the knowledge that she would see her parents again, she would have them in her life, she would love them…

And then they would leave.

Without them, something would always be missing. And how could that ever be okay?


	21. The Past Is Calling

Title: When Times Collide

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: This is the last chapter, though there will be an epilogue after it. And the epilogue will be happy, I promise. It should be up in a couple days.

Summary: When Max and Liz's daughter comes to the past seeking help, two times collide in a desperate race to save the future.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-One: The Past Is Calling

So here they were.

The jagged pieces of their fragmented lives would soon be mere memories, memories that faded into nothing, an entire timeline disappearing. In a way, it was bittersweet. They had a chance to start over, to start fresh, to create a world that was not as dark and dangerous as this one, a place where their children could grow up and live in relative peace and security. But in exchange, they had to give up everything that they had experienced, everything that they had known, everything that had shaped their lives for the past many, many years.

Everything that made them who they were.

"Are you sure this will work?" Liz asked for what must have been the thousandth time.

Serena rolled her eyes. "It was your plan, Liz," she pointed out, her tone slightly sarcastic. It wasn't that she didn't understand Liz's apprehension, but rather that it made it much more difficult for her to accept this plan when even the architect of the plan was having doubts.

Liz gave her an unreadable look, then said, "I meant harnessing the power of the Granolith. I know the rest of the plan will work."

And if there was the slightest tremor in her voice, like a reminder that things were quite far from clear-cut, Serena ignored it. She had been informed of the plan, and as far as she knew, she was the only human to learn the truth of what the aliens intended. It left her with a feeling of fear and discontent in her chest, though she knew it was the right decision. But she had to believe that Max and Liz knew what they were doing, that they were not scared by any of this, because otherwise…

Otherwise her own resolve would quickly crumble.

They made their way through the ruins of the pod chamber, stepping over chunks of rock and twisted shards of metal and stone. and past the tangled strips of membrane that once housed four pods, through the narrow opening that lead to the larger chamber. The sun beat down on them, long shafts of light coming in through the cracks and fissures in the remains of the partially-destroyed cave ceiling.

The circular base of the Granolith remained, although it was covered with dust and fragments of stone. It was warm to the touch, and all around it the air hummed with an intense electricity.

"Do you have the stones?" Serena asked, watching as Michael quickly withdrew the alien artifacts from the bag slung over his shoulder. "Good. Place them around the Granolith. One at each corner. Alex, connect them with the wires. I'll set up the rest of the power-structure."

She'd been a little cautious about this, given how little anyone knew about alien technology. Combing the technology from Antar with things from Earth was both tricky and delicate, but they needed both for this to work.

She kept an eye on Alex as she worked. He was the only one she trusted to do anything, the only one she had agreed to let help her with the planning. And even his knowledge hadn't been quite enough, and she'd spent the entire night pouring over books and manuals and notes from various physics classes she had taken.

The basic idea was simple enough. The energy from the Granolith existed in the air all around them as heat. Energy could not be created or destroyed. But it could be converted. So all that was really required was a conversation of the thermal energy into kinetic energy, and then that energy had to be trapped within the confines of the Granolith.

Which, of course, was so much easier said than done.

As she deftly hooked up the circuit and flipped the switch on the generator that would create a magnetic field within the perimeter created by the alien orbs, she wondered idly what the world would be like in the future. Not this future, but the one that Max and Liz thought they could create. A new future, different and distinct. And hopefully so much better.

Well, she mused thoughtfully, she wasn't sure how things could get much worse.

"Ready," Alex said after a few moments of tense silence.

She nodded and stepped away from the others. "Okay. All of you, move back." And she waited, watching them all closely, as they slowly obeyed her order. Max and Liz were holding hands, while Michael surveyed everything with his arms folded over his chest. Maria was close to his side, looking anxious and concerned. Alex stood on one side of Michael, and Kyle stood on the other side of Max and Liz, both impassive and quiet.

She could almost feel the tension that existed in the group. She didn't know what it was, or why it was there, and they had been less than forthcoming with the details. She supposed she couldn't blame them for wanting to keep their own secrets, given that everyone other part of their lives was made public knowledge, but it still bothered her. Because she could not remember another time when she had seen them this tense, this fractured. What could have possibly happened to drive them so far apart?

She pushed those thoughts from her mind and focused instead on the contraption before her. Then she held her breath, sent a quick prayer to whatever deity was listening, and jump-started the circuit.

There was a flash of brilliant light, and a wave of heat knocked her backwards. She stumbled and fell, lifting a hand to cover her eyes as the light momentarily blinded her. The wind was knocked out of her body, and her ears began to ring…

And then it was over. She blinked several times and climbed back to her feet. All around her, the aliens were doing the same, and they were staring at each other, at her, and at the Granolith with eyes wide and filled with wonder.

Because there, in front of them, was a circling, inverted cone of pure energy, flickering and shimmering with an eerie blue light…

"It worked," Liz breathed.

Serena smiled. "Yes," she agreed readily. "It did. Now…" she looked over at Max and Liz, "I guess it is time for you two to go."

_

* * *

_

_Several years in the past…_

The heat of the desert sun scorched the sand-and-rock ground, and there was little shade to protect from its unmerciful blaze. The cliff rose steeply on one side, jagged near the top. On the other, the land sloped downwards and rolled away towards the distant horizon.

In front of them, the pod chamber stood silent.

"Are you sure this is right?" Liz asked worriedly, tucking a few strands of dark hair behind one ear.

Max nodded, glancing over his shoulder towards the road that twisted out of sight in the distance. He could just now glimpse the outline of a car, and he knew what was about to happen. At any moment, it would screech to a halt, an a stunned Diane and Philip Evans would find themselves staring at two children.

Sure enough, even as he watched, the car stopped moving. It was too far away to see anything clearly, but he didn't need to watch it. He remembered this moment with such clarity, such vivid detail – the gentle smile on Philip's lips as he spoke to the children, the worry and horror in Diane's eyes when she realized they were all alone in the desert without anyone to take care of them, the warmth of the two soon-to-be-his-parents' hands as they whispered reassuringly and pulled the children into the car.

That had been the tricky part. They'd had to time it exactly right, because Max couldn't risk coming in contact with his past self. So it had to be after Isabel and Max had left, and perhaps even after Michael had hatched and torn his way through the membrane to face the world alone… but before Tess broke free.

Liz looked in the opposite direction, searching for signs of Michael. He'd left a while ago, his small frame blending into the desert. She couldn't see him anymore, and she sighed. She didn't like knowing that he would end up in foster care again, end up with Hank. She had wanted to prevent that, to fix it, but Michael – the future Michael – had been adamantly opposed.

"_We can't risk changing too much," Michael said as he paced back and forth across the floor of the room. "And if that means I end up with Hank , then fine."_

_Maria frowned. "I don't know, Michael..." she argued. "If we have the chance to fix this, to save you all the frustration of growing up with him, why wouldn't we go ahead and do that?"_

"_Because we don't know what other kinds of effects it might have on all of us," Michael explained. "Maybe I got some benefit from living with Hank. Maybe I actually learned something. Either way, I don't want to mess with things too much."_

"_He's right," Alex said with a nod. "We have to focus on the main goal of this. We can't let all the other things distract us. I'd love to completely rewrite the past if I could, but we simply can't. It's too risky."_

_Liz didn't really know what Michael thought he could have gotten from living with Hank. Self-reliance, maybe? Or just the determination to not ever end up the way Hank had, a bitter, lonely drunk._

"So now we just wait?" Liz murmured, and Max nodded. Now, all they could do was bide their time, waiting and watching for the opportune moment.

Eventually, something moved, a small speck of darkness, a silhouette against the bright sun. Max turned towards it, eyes narrowed, and said in a low voice, "That could be…"

Liz nodded. "Yes. We should…" She didn't finish the sentence. She'd meant to say that they should hide, but the words faded as she continued to stare the distant figure.

She didn't need to finish the sentence, however, because Max knew what she was suggesting and had agreed with it anyway. He quickly drew her backwards, away from the pod chamber so that they were well hidden behind a curve in the cliffs. From within the crevice, they watched with abated breath, hardly daring to move. It felt like hours, though it might have only been a few minutes, and then the figure was before them, looking around with suspicious eyes.

Liz gave Max a look, a question in her eyes, and he nodded slowly. He could do this. He _had_ to do this.

"_You do realize what you are suggesting, right?" Isabel asked, watching Max cautiously. He looked at her quickly, and she gave a little sigh. "This isn't fighting in the heat of a battle. This isn't shooting a person to keep them from killing you. This is lying in wait, killing someone in cold blood. Are you sure you can do that?"_

"_I don't really have a choice, do I?" he countered with a shrug._

_But Isabel didn't look reassured. Instead, she murmured, "Max, you don't understand. You don't know what that does to a person." She looked away, dropping her gaze even as the tears of self-disgust pooled in her tawny eyes, "You don't know what it feels like to be a murderer."_

_That gave Max pause, and he looked at her for a moment. Then, slowly, he nodded. "I suppose I don't," he agreed. He had been in part responsible for Khivar's death, but it wasn't the same thing, and he knew it._

_Still…_

"_But I'm still willing to make that sacrifice," he said, waiting until Isabel looked at him before adding, "because Liz and I will cease to exist. We'll fade away, get erased by our own actions. And then a different version of us will have a chance at a happier future, one where we don't need to make these kinds of choices. So I am willing to become a murderer if that means that no one else has to."_

Max stepped out from behind the cliff wall, his expression blank, his eyes narrowed, his gaze firm. "Hello, Nasedo."

The shape-shifter started and looked at Max cautiously. He was wearing the same form that he would wear several years in the future when he met Max for the first time – that of Ed Harding. But, whereas Max had first viewed Ed as enigmatic and cold, but still an ally, he knew better now.

"Who are you?" Nasedo asked sharply, lifting a hand as though to attack Max. He didn't, though, and the confused and suspicious expression on his wary features was enough to tell Max that he waiting to determine if they were friend or foe.

But Max wasn't going to just stand there and wait for Nasedo to figure it out. He couldn't take the chance that the shape-shifter would gain the upper-hand and win. Nasedo was still very powerful, probably more powerful than anyone had realized until it was far too late to stop him. Max had the element of surprise at the moment, and he intended to use it.

He had a job to do. A world to save.

And without warning, he moved forward and slammed his right hand onto Nasedo's chest with all the strength he could muster. His fingers began to glow an eerie blue-green, and an overwhelming burst of energy rushed through his body and poured out of his palm, flowing into the shape-shifter.

Nasedo's eyes went wide with shock as he realized, too late, the danger that he was in, the threat that he faced.

A moment before his eyes glazed with death, the traitorous shape-shifter heard the strange alien boy whisper, "I'm someone you should have never tried to destroy."

Then Nasedo's world went dark, and he collapsed to the desert floor, lifeless and still.

Max swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He hadn't fully appreciated Isabel's warning until that moment, until he felt the heart beating in Nasedo's chest give out beneath his fingers. Everything seemed a little distant, then, as though the world was separated from him by a thick blanket of fog, and all he could see was the shape-shifter's blank, unseeing eyes.

Then he felt Liz's hand on his arm, and forced himself to look at her, to ignore the chill that ran down his spine and seeped into his fingers and toes.

"Is he… is he not coming back?" Liz asked delicately. After all, they'd been able to revive him when he was shot while helping the Max escape from the white room.

"No," Max said. "He can't come back from this." Gunshot wounds were different from those inflicted by an alien's powers. Nasedo didn't have the ability to heal himself now. He was truly gone. Dead.

Dead. It was so permanent, so final. So…

Max shivered and looked away.

Then he ran a hand through his hair and looked down at the body once more. "Tess will be coming soon."

Liz nodded. Nasedo's body had started to disintegrate before their very eyes, rather like the way the skin's husks would turn into dust after they were killed. She supposed that was good, she did not want the scared, lonely six-year-old Tess to see a dead body when she first emerged into the world.

"We should go," she murmured.

"_I don't like this part of the plan, though," Michael said after a moment. "I mean, after will get rid of Nasedo, we're just going to let Tess wander around in the desert?"_

"_That's what you did. That's what Max and Isabel did," Liz pointed out. "For all we know, that is also what Maria, Alex, Kyle, and I did as well." Michael still looked skeptical, and she supposed she couldn't blame him. She was, after all, suggesting that they abandon a family member – a six-year-old family member – in the middle of a scorching desert._

_But she was sure about this, was sure it would work._

"_Look," she said finally, "the seven of us ended up in Roswell, right? We all came at different points, but we all got there soon after we… hatched." Even now, even when she fully believed that she was an alien, when she had accepted what she had been told and what she had seen of the past as the complete truth, it still felt odd to refer to her hatching._

_She still wanted to call it a birth._

"_But Tess didn't," she continued. "Probably because Nasedo found her. And he needed time to screw up her head. But if he hadn't found her, if she'd been left on her own, she probably would have ended up in Roswell pretty quickly, too. It's just the way it was fated to happen."_

"_You're putting all our lives in the hands of fate?" Kyle muttered. "It could just be a coincidence, you know…"_

_Liz looked at him. "Seven people, Kyle. Seven people ended up in Roswell. That's not a coincidence."_

Max gave her a quick look and took her hand, squeezing it. "You sure about this?" he asked gently.

She nodded. She wasn't sure how she could explain it, but she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was the right thing to do. "I'm sure," she said.

_

* * *

_

They stood in the alleyway, looking up at the house that rose above them. The window on the second floor was partially open, and the curtain rustled slightly in the light breeze. The Parkers clearly hadn't thought there daughter would be in any danger – it was Roswell, after all, and who would actually climb up to break into a little girl's room?

Liz glanced at Max and said, "I guess it isn't really breaking and entering if the window is open."

"Hm… yeah. Still, it feels a little weird to go in there without your permission. Usually you're the one inviting me in."

"But I am giving you permission," Liz argued. "Just… you know, not the me from this time. Future me is giving you permission to climb into the room of past me. Or… um, I guess maybe she's really current me, since we are in her time."

Max found he really had no desire to spend much time thinking about the details of time travel. That was something better left to the scientists in the group, and he had to focus on the job before him. They didn't have a whole lot of time, and he didn't know how long it would be before they simply disappeared, their timeline erased by their actions here in the past.

"_There is one other thing we should do," Alex said after a moment or two of thinking. "We should let us four – Liz, Maria, Kyle, and I – know that we are aliens."_

"_I agree," Maria said thoughtfully. "Just… you know… so we're more prepared. So that we know this at the beginning, and not several years later. Not after we've spent so much time thinking we're human."_

Liz, for rather obvious reasons, hadn't been able to come. So it was just Max who climbed through the window leading into little Liz's room and sat down at the edge of her bed, watching her sleep. The moonlight fell through the window, cascading over her face and hair. He felt a little creepy, sitting there and staring at her.

Still…

He also found himself enjoying the moment, staring at her. Just watching her sleep, a peaceful expression on her face. He hadn't seen Liz looking that relaxed in a very long time, and he missed it. He hated the fact that there lives had gotten so strange, so completely messed up, that she had not once been able to relax around him. Not for a long time.

He rested his hand on her shoulder. "Liz? Liz? Wake up."

She opened her eyes blearily, blinking away the vestiges of sleep. It was clear that she was not fully awake, but instead caught somewhere between reality and the land of dreams. Brown eyes focused on him, and there was no fear there. Instead, she just stared, as though it was not at all strange to find a man sitting on her bed, smiling at her, in the middle of the night.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice slurred with sleep.

"A friend," Max answered, smiling a little. "I need to tell you something really important, okay?"

She nodded sleepily. "Mm… okay."

"Have you ever noticed that you can do things that other people can't? Things that make you different… special?" It felt ridiculous to explain it like this, but Max doubted she would have understood anything if he asked the young Liz if she ever noticed that she was a half-alien, half-human hybrid.

She bit her lip, eyes clouding with confusion, and stifled a yawn. "Mommy says I'm special," she remarked, looking at him as though needing confirmation of that fact.

Max nodded. "Well… this is a little different, Liz. You're special in a different way from what your Mommy says."

That simply puzzled Liz, and she blinked at him several times, her expression uncomprehending.

"_If we're going to tell them… us… our past selves… that we're alien… wouldn't it make more sense to just find us right after we hatch?" Kyle argued, glancing around at the others._

"_But we don't know when or where we hatch," Maria pointed out logically, easily spotting the one logistical problem of that plan. "And we don't really know how we ended up in Roswell, or why our parents didn't tell us we were adopted."_

_Max frowned and suggested, "They probably didn't know." He'd spent a lot of time over the past several days thinking about this, and it was the only possibility that really made sense to him. But the others were looking at him with bewilderment and surprise, and he reasoned that it clearly did not make sense to them._

"_How could they not know?"_

"_Look, we know Khivar went to a lot of trouble to get Tess out of the group. We know he desperately wanted to keep the eight of us apart. He probably had something to do with this. After all, what better way to keep eight aliens apart than to convince four of them that they are actually human?"_

"_If you're parents don't tell you that you are adopted… if the don't know that you are adopted… you'll never question the idea that you have to be human," Michael agreed after a moment of thinking about this. "It's just… that would be the only thing that makes sense to you."_

"_It would also explain why we didn't use our powers," Maria mused. "We didn't know we had them, so we never tried to cal on them. The four of you… you always knew you were alien, so you knew that you could do these things…"_

"_It makes sense. After all, the only way we actually even discovered that we had powers was when they spiraled out of control and burst into our lives without us doing anything to try to use them," Alex agreed._

Max sighed and ran a hand through his hair, searching for a different way to explain this to Liz, to make her understand what it meant to be an alien. He had to convince her that it was important, that using her powers was something she needed to practice, and that it was something she needed to keep secret. From everyone, except Maria, Alex, and Kyle.

After a minute of thinking, he came the conclusion that there was only one thing to do. He'd have to explain by example.

He looked around quickly until his gaze landed on a crayon lying on the ground near the bed. He slid off the bed for a moment and picked it up, holding it in the palm of his hand. Then he turned back to Liz and said softly, "Here. Watch this."

And, in the center of the palm of his hand, the crayon began to slowly rearrange itself until it resembled a wax flower, a rose with delicate petals and a thin, thorny stem.

Liz stared in wonder, and reached out tentatively for the rose. Her fingers hovered in the air, just inches above Max's hand, but she did not take the wax flower. Instead, she let her hand drop back to the sheets and blinked a few times, sleep threatening to overtake her.

"I can do that?" she whispered.

"Yes," Max agreed. "And you're not the only one. Your friends can do it, too."

"Maria and Alex?"

Max nodded. "And Kyle Valenti." He doubted Liz interacted with Kyle much at this point, but perhaps this would prompt them to form a bond now, at a young age. They were best friends in their past life, and they had obviously grown so close in the disastrous future before she had died. It would be good for Kyle to be pulled into the group now, to feel like he belonged.

Liz chewed her lip as she nodded. The six-year-old's features wore a slightly bewildered expression, but she didn't ask any questions. She was rapidly losing the battle against sleep, and Max could see her about to drift away at any moment.

"But you can't tell anyone else, okay?" Max said, rushing on, knowing he had to make her understand this before she fell back asleep. He couldn't risk her naïve, young self accidently exposing the truth. She had to understand the importance of this secret.

Fortunately, Liz just nodded again, apparently deciding to believe anything he said.

"Won't tell," she promised, her eyes closing tiredly.

"And Liz? There are others out there. Others like you. And like Maria, and, Alex, and Kyle. You'll meet them soon, but it might be a while before you really get to know them."

Liz snuggled deeper into the blankets, wrapping them around her small frame. Her face was mashed into the pillow, and it puffed out on either side of her cheek, hiding part of her face. Her eyes were drifting shut, and she yawned, eyebrows coming together.

"Liz?" Max pressed, "did you hear me?"

"Mm… heard you. Others like me… won't meet them yet…"

"_I wish we could tell them more. Tell them everything." Kyle looked quickly at Michael, then added, "It seems so unfair to withhold information. We're going to have to go through it again, searching for the answers, not knowing who to trust…"_

"_They will know who to trust," Max answered. "They… we… will know to trust each other." He paused for a moment, thinking, then said, "I'll tell Liz. Past Liz. I'll tell her that there are others out there. Others like her and Alex and Maria and Kyle. I won't tell her anything else, but if I tell her that… she'll know she can trust us when she meets us."_

"_That could work," Michael conceded reluctantly, giving a brief nod. "We can't tell them anything else, though. Just this. And if we combine that knowledge with Liz's power of premonitions… next time she and Max meet, she might even know who he is. Or, at least, that he is someone important to her."_

"_If we're going to tell her all that, why can't we just tell her everything?" Kyle grumbled._

_This time it was Maria who replied, "Too risky. Besides… it doesn't work like that. These aren't things we can just be told. Sometimes… sometimes we have to learn something for ourselves. The hard way, if it comes to that. Because life isn't easy, and you don't get handed all the answers on a silver platter. And that struggle is what makes us who we are."_

"_I still… I'm still worried," Alex confided after a moment of silence. "I don't like this. I don't like that everything is resting on 'maybe this will happen…' or 'this should work out the right way…' It just seems so…"_

"_Risky?" Kyle suggested with a slight drawl and a roll of his eyes._

"_Have a little faith, Alex," Liz murmured._

"_Faith in what?" Alex questioned pointedly, giving her a hard, inquiring look._

"_In us," was Liz's simple reply. "Have faith in us, in our ability to survive. To come together, to stand strong. To live."_

Liz had fallen asleep. Max stared at her for a moment, watching the rise and fall of her chest as she drew steady, even breaths. Then he leaned over and pressed a quick, chaste kiss into her hair.

"See you in ten years, Liz," he murmured before slipping from the room, quiet as a shadow disappearing into the dark.

Liz rolled over in her sleep as the moonlight continued to filter through the window and the curtain rustled in the breeze. She would wake up the next day with know memory of the strange man who had visited her in the middle of the night, no recollection of the conversation that had passed between them…

But she _would_ wake with the oddest sensation that she needed to stay friends with Maria and Alex and Kyle. With the feeling that she was special, somehow, and that she could only tell the other three her secret. And with the barest flickering of a thought, buried deep in her subconscious, telling her that there were others out there, others like her. Special, unique, full of secrets…

A family.

_Her_ family.

_

* * *

_

They stood in the desert, waiting.

The sun was slowly rising over the horizon, causing the sky to turn a fiery orange and red. It wasn't hot yet, but it wasn't cool either. The arm was warm and damp with an odd humidity that seemed so out of place in the usually dry desert heat. The moon was fading, but the brief outline could still be seen against the pale blue-white of the sky.

Max inhaled a slow breath, and said, "How long do you think it will take?"

Liz shrugged. "Hopefully not that long," she said a little nervously. "I don't think it would be a good idea for us to hang out in the desert forever, waiting to fade away."

Max nodded, and tried not to think about the details of what she had said, about the fact that they would soon be fading into nothing, ceasing to exist.

"I wonder what it will feel like," Liz said softly. "I wonder if we will feel anything at all." She wasn't looking at Max, but instead she let her gaze wander towards the rest of the desert, to the sand-and-rock land that rose and fell all around them. She called Roswell home for years, and she knew this desert well.

"Probably not," Max replied. He did not have Liz's scientific mind, and he did not wish to linger that long on all the possibilities of what could happen. They would fade away, and they would be gone, and once that happened… who would be left to care what it felt like?

Liz bit her lip and gave a frustrated sigh. "We changed things. I know we did. We got rid of Nasedo and saved Tess, we told little me about our powers… why are we still here? Why hasn't our timeline disappeared yet?"

"Liz." Max's voice, suddenly sharp, caught her attention, and she looked at him. Or, rather, she looked through him. He was translucent, his body slowly vanishing before her very eyes.

She looked down at her own hands, and realized that they were transparent as well.

"It's working," she breathed.

Max reached towards her, his fingers brushing against the skin of her hand. They did not make contact, but rather passed harmlessly through the air as though she were a ghost. But she felt a spark, a jump of electricity that passed between them even though they could no longer touch.

"I love you," Max said.

She smiled faintly. "I love you, too," she murmured. "Always have, always will."

He knew he was almost gone. Liz was holding on just a little bit longer than he was, and in a way, he was absurdly grateful for that, for the fact that he would not have to watch her disappear. He didn't particularly like the fact that she would have to watch him as he faded away, either, but there was nothing else to be done.

He felt light. He was floating…

The vivid colors of the landscape blurred and blended together, and he looked at Liz one last time.

Then he was gone.

Liz, translucent and shimmering, had only a moment to stay there, staring at the spot that he had once been, before she too was drifting away. "See you soon, Max…" she whispered, a promise she knew would be kept. She would see him again, in ten years. And this time, she would know that they were meant to be together.

And then she, too, was gone, and nothing remained of their presence except for two tracks of footprints in the sand.


	22. Epilogue: A Whole New World

Title: When Times Collide

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: Alright, here we are folks, the end of the story. And see, I gave everyone a happy ending, just like I promised. I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Summary: When Max and Liz's daughter comes to the past seeking help, two times collide in a desperate race to save the future.

* * *

Epilogue: A Whole New World

_Ten years later..._

"Don't look now, but Max Evans is staring at you again."

Liz Parker frowned, tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear and adjusted her ridiculous alien antenna headband as she glanced at her mischievously grinning best friend. "So?"

"Maybe you should go talk to him?" the pixie blonde Maria DeLuca pressed, her eyes glittering with laughter.

"Stop it, Maria," Liz said softly, shaking her head as her lips quirked upwards into a smile.

"Oh, come on," Maria retorted, "he's obviously an admirer." She paused, then added thoughtfully, "Or a stalker. But hey, either way I bet he's interesting…"

Liz glanced towards the booth and saw that, sure enough, Max's tawny eyes were fixed on her. He looked away quickly when she caught his gaze, but then slowly faced her again, as though unable to tear his eyes from her. Sitting next to him was Michael Guerin, his best friend and the rebel of Roswell High School, and Michael's foster sister, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed cheerleader Tess. Michael looked disgusted by his friend's obvious lovesick stare, but Tess seemed to find the entire thing rather amusing.

Before Liz could muse on this any longer, however, the sound of raised voices caught her attention and she turned to see two men jump to their feet, yelling at each other.

And then the gun appeared.

Time seemed to stand still, everything frozen for a moment, all eyes fixed on the weapon.

And then there was the sharp sound of a bullet exploding into the air, and Liz felt something hot rip through her stomach, forcing her to the ground. Her vision blurred, her eyes sliding shut of their own accord, as the oxygen was forced roughly from her lungs.

"Liz, look at me," a voice whispered, a warm hand slipping over her fingers. "Come on, open your eyes. I need you to look at me."

She forced her eyes open and met an intense, soulful gaze. The hand moved to her stomach, and suddenly she was thrown into a distant memory of something that seemed oddly familiar.

_She looked out across the shimmering water. From her perch on the sun-drenched surface of the cliff, she could see below her two boys swimming, their bodies floating gracefully on the waves. One of them twisted in the water and looked up at her, their gazes meeting across the expanse of space. His eyes were deep and filled with emotion._

_For a moment, it felt as though her heart stopped beating._

_Later, at a party, the same two boys approached her, one shy and reluctant, the other laughingly pushing his friend forward. The one with the passionate eyes had dark hair, she saw now, and tan skin, while his friend was paler and appeared several years older._

"_Come, prince," said the light-haired boy, "introduce yourself to the lady. You admired her so much from the water."_

"_Larek!" the boy hissed, flushing darkly, but his friend did not seem at all abashed. The dark-haired boy sighed and turned towards her, smiling faintly, his eyes lowered. "I'm Zan," he whispered._

"_Ava," she murmured in reply._

And then she was slammed back into reality. Maria was at her side, eyes wild and filled with fear and confusion, and Max knelt next to her, his hand hovering over her stomach. She tore her eyes away from him and looked down at her abdomen.

The bullet wound was gone.

Michael was suddenly at Max's side, grabbing his friend by the arm. "Come on!" he hissed, the worry and frustration evident in his tone. "Tess can't mind-warp everyone forever. You need to get back to the booth before she loses her control and people start seeing you again."

That seemed to jolt Max back to awareness, and he jumped to his feet. Grabbing a ketchup bottle from the nearby counter, he smashed it on the ground and dumped the contents on Liz's bright yellow waitress uniform. "You fell over and broke the ketchup," he whispered, his voice low, his words pleading.

She nodded once.

Michael and Max returned to their booth, and she glanced from them to Tess. The blonde had her eyes closed and her forehead was glistening with beads of sweat. Michael touched her shoulder and her eyes snapped open. She leaned forward, resting her head in her hands, gasping for breath.

Max turned and caught Liz's gaze once more.

"Lizzie!" Time sped up, and Jeff Parker rushed forward, nearly crying out in horror at the sight of Liz still kneeling on the floor, covered in red. "Are you…?"

"It's just ketchup, Dad," she said hurriedly. "I just knocked over the ketchup."

"Oh, God, Lizzie…" Maria hugged her tightly, pulling her to her feet, and Jeff rested his hand on her shoulder, both of them looking incredibly pale. "You had me really scared for a moment there."

"Did you see Max come up to me?" Liz whispered in Maria's ear, low enough so that she knew no one else could overhear the question.

Maria pulled back and gave her a blank look. "No. He was at the booth the whole time, with Michael and Tess. And you were lying on the floor, not moving. I thought…" She drew a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "Don't ever do that to me again, chica!"

Liz cast a confused glance towards Max, but the dark-haired boy was not looking at her. He, Michael, and Tess had all risen to their feet and were heading towards the exit, moving with the other patrons in the mad dash to get out of the crime scene.

"You didn't see Max come anywhere near me?" she asked again.

Maria shook her head. "He was at the booth the whole time, Lizzie. Why?"

Liz looked at the booth. The plates of half-eaten food were left behind, along with a few loose dollar bills obviously meant to cover the cost. Two napkins were crumpled and tossed carelessly on the table, the third was neatly folded and placed along side the plate. There were two jars of Tabasco sauce.

The jars were both empty.

_

* * *

_

"I can't believe this, Max! You know, I finally feel like I have a quasi-normal existence and you go and blow it with one random act of lunacy." Isabel Evans huffed angrily as she glared at her brother, then she flopped down on the sofa in her living room and turned her accusing gaze to Michael and Tess. "How did you let me misguided brother do this?"

Michael held up his hands. "Hey, don't turn this around on me," he retorted fiercely. "I'm not the one who thinks he is a super hero."

"Look," Max said wearily, "I said I was sorry."

"Sorry?" Isabel snapped. "You break a sacred pact and that is all you have to say? You're lucky Tess was there to mind-warp or God knows what else we would have to worry about right now. As it is, we don't know what that precious Lizzie you idolize is going to do. What if she turns us over to some government agency that decides to poke us and prod us and... oh, right... _exterminate_ us?"

"You use your powers all the time," Max protested, although he knew it was a weak argument. Isabel had never nearly exposed their secret to an entire diner of strangers, after all. And yet… he wasn't sure how he could explain it to them, but something in his heart was telling him that he could not let Liz Parker die.

It was more than just an infatuation with her. It was something else.

He just had no idea what it was.

"The important thing is to contain this," Tess said finally, her soft voice cutting into the tense silence. She glanced between the irate Isabel and Michael and the contrite Max. "We just have to figure out what to say to Miss Scientist."

"I think we should tell her the truth."

The words were out of Max's mouth before he had even had a chance to think through what he was suggesting, and he seemed just as stunned as the other three by what he had said. For a moment, there was total silence as three sets of wide eyes focused on him and he found himself lowering his gaze, his heart beating frantically in his chest.

Then Michael said, "He's cracked. He's finally gone and cracked on us."

"I'm not crazy," Max snapped a sharp retort, his gaze lifting to glare at Michael.

"Well, you certainly aren't thinking clearly," Isabel answered, clearly siding with Michael. "I'm telling you," she murmured to Michael and Tess, "he must have fallen on his head coming out of the pods because I don't see any other explanation for how…"

"You're assuming he's thinking with his head, Izzy," Tess cut in smoothly, giving Max a wicked smirk. "We both know that _that_ is not the body part that's been calling the shots today."

"Don't be crude," Max muttered, frowning at her.

She leaned forward, blue eyes blazing. "I saved you today, Max. Don't forget that."

He rolled his eyes and said under his breath, "I've got the feeling you're never going to let me forget it." Then he rose to his feet and walked over to the window, glancing out at the tidy front yard. His parents wouldn't be home for a few hours, which was the only reason they were able to talk about this so openly.

It was hard, lying to his parents. Hard, but necessary.

He turned back to the others. "When I healed Liz… I felt something. I saw a flash…"

"You see flashes all the time," Isabel pointed out dryly. "Forming a connection… that's part of how your power works."

"This was different," Max said softly, gently, sighing as he spoke. He pointedly ignored Michael's lower snicker and Tess' roll of her eyes. "I saw… I was in the flash. It was… like our past. In a different place…"

"Our past?" Isabel echoed. "You mean… like _home_?"

Max nodded silently.

"That's not possible," Michael said. "Parker wasn't on our home planet."

"You don't know that," Max countered.

"Oh, for God's sake, Max, listen to yourself," Isabel said sharply. "You can't just pretend that every pretty girl you like might somehow have a connection to our past!"

"I'm not pretending, Izzy," he shot back, flushing at her accusation. "I'm telling you… there's something about her. I can't explain it, but I know… there is something." He ran a hand through his hair, then slowly shook his head. "You have to trust me on this," he said, almost pleading. "There's something different about her."

Michael still looked skeptical, Isabel seemed just a little bit intrigued, and Tess' expression remained blank and unreadable.

_

* * *

_

"Okay… let me get this straight," Maria said, her lips pressed into a thin line, "Max Evans _healed_ you?"

"Yes," Liz said emphatically, knowing by the look in her best friend's eyes that Maria clearly thought she was going insane. She turned to Alex and Kyle for support, but they just gazed at her, identical expressions of concern on their faces.

"Uh… Lizzie…" Alex started, reaching forward and resting his hand gently on her shoulder, "have you been under a lot of stress lately?"

She shrugged off his hand and jumped to her feet, beginning to pace anxiously. "I'm not losing it," she said.

"But Liz… people can't just heal gunshot wounds," Alex protested logically, as always jumping to the most rational explanation.

Without warning, Liz grabbed a bottle of mustard from the counter and threw it at Alex. He reacted instinctively, bringing his hands up in front of him, flicking his wrists. The bottle froze, hovering in midair only inches away from his face.

Liz licked her dry lips. "People can't usually do _that_, either," she replied as she snatched the bottle from midair and replaced it on the counter.

Alex huffed impatiently. "You couldn't have found a less dramatic way to argue your point?"

Liz just smiled, and Kyle chuckled slightly. The tension in the room eased somewhat, but Liz could still see the apprehension in her friends' gazes.

"I want to talk to Max," she said finally.

"I don't know," Kyle cut in almost immediately. "Just because he might be… different… it doesn't make him one of us. Doesn't make him a friend."

"I agree," Alex said with a nod.

Liz turned to Maria for support, and the blonde looked a little unsure. "Come on, Maria," Liz practically begged, "Don't you trust me? Trust my judgment on this…"

Maria sighed and said, "Chica, you know I trust you. But… come on, you need to think clearly about this. We don't know a thing about Max Evans, and telling him who we are… could put us in unnecessary danger."

Liz huffed and said in annoyance, "When did you become the logical one?"

"When you stopped thinking clearly," Maria retorted instantly, smiling faintly at her friend. Then her expression sobered and she said, "Come on, Liz. Think. You _know_ this is a bad idea."

"Well, what are we going to do then?" Liz asked pointedly, looking at all of them. Alex was frowning thoughtfully, clearly already pondering their different options, and Kyle looked vaguely uneasy by the entire situation. Maria was twisting a strand of short blonde hair around her fingers, and she was eyeing Liz worriedly.

"Why do we have to do anything?" Kyle asked. "As far as anyone knows, we're just four normal teenagers. Max is the one with the super powers, not us."

"You want to pretend that we're just humans?" Alex asked skeptically, not convinced that it would work.

"You got a better plan?" Kyle demanded.

"I saw things," Liz interrupted suddenly, a little nervously. "When Max healed me," she elaborated at Maria's confused look. "Flashes. Memories of… something. The past. Like… um… home."

Alex blinked. "Home as in… _home_?" When Liz nodded, he asked, "And Max was in these flashes?"

Liz chewed her lower lip and nodded again. When she spoke, it was slowly, as though she was picking her words with great caution and concern. "It was… they were his memories, I think. Of us. Him and me… and someone else I don't remember… a friend of his… I think. It's all… very… muddled."

"So you're saying Max Evans was on our home planet?" Maria asked, disbelief evident in her tone. "Lizzie… that's not possible."

"You don't know that," Liz argued. Maria opened her mouth to say something, probably to counter Liz's comment, but Alex cut in before she could speak.

"If Liz saw flashes of Max's past, do you think he saw something of hers? Because if he did, we might not be able to lie to him anyway. He'll know that we're… different."

There was a silence as they all thought over the implications of this, and then Kyle sighed heavily and said, "Maybe we should wait to see how Evans plays it? He might not even bother coming to find out more. We don't know anything about him. Maybe's he's just as worried as we are, and wants to pretend like it didn't happen."

"Or he could be the enemy," Alex retorted, shaking his head slowly. "I'm not sure ignoring the problem is the best plan." After a pause, he added reluctantly, "But I don't really see a better one at the moment."

"I agree," Maria murmured, shooting Liz an apologetic look. "Let's just… wait. See what happens. See what Max does."

Liz frowned, but gave in, knowing that she was out-voted. "Fine," she muttered, sounding just a little bit ungracious, "if that's what everyone else wants, we can do that." Like the others, she didn't want to take the chance of revealing their secret to the wrong person. It was dangerous, and could have deadly consequences, and that was something that none of them wanted.

But she just couldn't shake the feeling that Max was safe… and, for some reason, she knew she could trust him with her life.

_

* * *

_

Max frowned, glancing around the school hallway, as though nervous. Tess was at his side, her hand resting on his shoulder as though she was afraid that without her presence there to keep him calm, he might rush off and do something incredibly stupid. He had no doubt that either Isabel or Michael, or, more likely, both of them, had asked her to keep an eye on him.

He was a little annoyed, and a little bemused, by their concern.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Liz appear, talking to Alex Whitman. Neither of them had noticed him yet, and he turned back quickly to his locker, staring at the textbooks lined up before him.

Tess' grip on his arm tightened.

He felt, rather than heard, Liz stop abruptly as she caught sight of him. Against his better judgment, he glanced over his shoulder, meeting her gaze. He saw Alex's frown, saw the blue-eyed boy quickly catch Liz by the elbow and whisper something to her. Liz tore her gaze away from Max and nodded to Alex, replying to whatever he had said, and then the two walked on.

Tess let out a slow breath.

"This is ridiculous," Max complained. "Is this what we are going to do? Every time we see Liz, we all have to freeze?" He faced Tess, eyeing her appraisingly. "Do you really think that people aren't going to notice how awkward we're acting?"

Tess' blue eyes narrowed somewhat as she answered teasingly, "People will just assume you are infatuated by her, and are consequently acting like an idiot. Which is nothing new."

Max glared, but it made no difference. Not that he thought it would – he had long since learned that he could not intimidate Tess. Her petite size did not make her any less formidable. So he was the first to break the staring contest, the first to look away.

"Be careful, Max," Tess cautioned after a moment of silence. "Maybe it really would be best if you just kept your distance. Just… you know… stay clear of trouble."

But despite Tess' warning, Max found himself partnered with Liz for their biology class, and being so close to her was making his skin tingle.

Isabel was in the class also, and it was clear by the way she kept looking over at him that she was not pleased by the teacher's partnering assignment. But there was little she could do, short of raising her hand and telling the teacher that it wasn't okay for Max and Liz to partner each other. And how would she explain her objection? Max sincerely doubted she would be stupid enough to tell the teacher that she was afraid her brother would spill all his alien secrets to a girl he thought might also be an alien…

So Isabel had settled for continually staring at him, watching his every move as though she might somehow be able to fling herself across the room and stop him from making a grave error.

Liz was tapping her pencil idly on the surface of the desk as she watched Max carefully shave a thin piece of onion skin from the rest of the onion. He pressed it onto the slide and slid it under the microscope, gesturing for Liz to take a look through the lens. There lesson focused on plant cells, but Max wasn't paying much attention to what the teacher was saying.

He was too busy gazing at Liz.

Her brown hair fell in front of her face as she leaned over the microscope. It half-hid her face from view, long strands obscuring her tan skin. She would look at him every now and then, a worried expression in her eyes, but every time he opened his mouth to say something, the words wouldn't come out, and she always ended up looking away quickly.

The silence was tense, but not awkward. And he felt as though he could be perfectly content to just sit there and stare at her forever.

And then everything changed. In a blink of an eye, his entire world was turned upside-down and inside-out.

He wasn't quite sure what happened. He must have been chewing on the end of a pencil, although he had no recollection of it. But the next thing he knew, Liz had somehow managed to get a few of his cells onto a slide, and when she looked at him with wide eyes, he felt his heart stop beating.

_

* * *

_

So now they were here.

The Crashdown was closed, and it was just the eight of them standing around awkwardly. Michael and Isabel stood to one side, and Tess was close to Max, her eyes fixed on him as though afraid she'd have to physically drag him away from doing something stupid. Kyle and Maria were sitting at a table, away from Max, Isabel, Michael, and Tess, and Alex was leaning against the far wall.

Liz was pacing.

She didn't usually pace, but now she was nervous, far more nervous than she had been in a very long time. Perhaps stealing Max's pencil when he wasn't looking and putting his cells onto a glass slide hadn't been the most… honest… way to go about figuring out who he was, but she'd felt the almost uncontrollable urge to learn the truth. To investigate.

And she'd been absolutely shocked to look at those cells. And to realize that they looked exactly like hers.

It was Michael who finally spoke, breaking into the silence. "So you looked at Max's cells," he said, his voice accusing. He folded his arms over his chest and glared at Liz, and that might have intimidated her at any other point in time. But not now.

Now, looking at him, it felt so familiar. He felt familiar. Just like Max did, just like Isabel and Tess did.

Maria stood up, almost immediately coming to Liz's defense. "She just wanted the truth. We all wanted the truth. I mean… after what you did to her…"

"Oh, you mean the way he saved her life?" Isabel asked sweetly, giving Maria a saccharine look. "Yes, I can see why you would decide to spy on him and steal his cells. It's a great way to say thank you."

"Isabel," Max murmured, and she turned towards him furiously.

"Why are you defending her?"

"Can we just focus on the most pressing issue?" Alex cut in, giving Isabel a hard look. To Liz, he said, "You told us that Max's cells looked just like ours. And he healed you. So we can assume…"

"That we're all one big, happy family?" Tess drawled.

"I wasn't going to say that," Alex answered softly, coming forward. Liz smiled inwardly as she watched him, as always impressed by the way he could keep so calm, so collected, even at a time like this. He refused to let Tess' sarcasm bother him, refused to acknowledge her mocking tone.

But…but something about what Tess had said resonated with Liz. "I think she's right," Liz murmured, and Max looked at her quickly. She blushed, not realizing that she'd said anything loud enough for the others to hear. But now she was receiving a questioning look from Kyle as well, and she sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

"You think we're a family?" Kyle asked incredulously.

"I think we're connected somehow," Liz defended herself. "Those flashes… the things I saw…"

"Okay, seriously," Michael grumbled, "if you start going on poetically about whatever it was you saw, I'm out of here. I can barely stand it when Maxwell goes that pathetically lovesick, I'm not listening to you too."

"Look, there are eight of us. Eight aliens in Roswell. That really can't be a coincidence," Liz pointed out logically, giving Max a shy glance. Was he really lovesick? Had he been thinking about her as much as she was thinking about him?

"You're right," Isabel agreed. "Maybe we're mortal enemies. Maybe we're supposed to be killing each other."

"Isabel…"

"What? It's a valid possibility."

"No. Okay, I just…" Liz trailed off and shook her head with a heavy sigh. She didn't know how to explain this, didn't know if she even could explain it. But she had to at least try to get the others to understand, to hear what she was saying. "I can't tell you how I know this. I don't even really know how I know it. But we're… connected. Somehow. I just… I can feel it. It's like… like someone once told me that we were family, and I forgot, but now I am remembering. You know?"

"No," Kyle said bluntly, rising to his feet. "I can honestly say I don't know what you're talking about."

"Just… trust me," Liz said, looking desperately at Kyle, Maria, and Alex. They had to trust her. They were her family. Maybe Michael, Isabel, and Tess wouldn't trust her yet. Maybe even Max would have his own reservations about this. But the three of them were family, and she needed them to believe her.

Alex sighed, Maria lowered her gaze, and Kyle gave a slight shrug.

"I think we can agree that we're connected somehow," Max said softly. "The things I saw when I healed Liz… that was _home_. My home. And she was there. Our past… we're linked. I don't know how, but I do know that. I know that we belong together."

He reached out for Liz's hand with an tentative, unsure smile, and she let him take it, let his fingers wrap around her own.

And then the world shifted, and something else burst before her eyes.

"_I can't believe you actually thought this would be a good idea!" Maria fumed at Michael, hands on her hips. A young boy, perhaps two- or three-years-old, ran around them in circles, holding a squirt gun in his hands and drenching anything and everything he could hit._

"_Come on, Maria," Michael protested. "Zan likes the toy, and he's clearly having a good time. It's fun."_

"_You have a very different idea of fun than I do," she snapped, and turned away from him, towards Liz. "You agree with me, right?"_

_Liz, who was balancing her own two-or three-year-old on her hip shrugged and said, "Uh. Sure. Whatever you say," and behind Liz, Max let out a low chuckle._

"_Just wait until it's Ava who has the squirt gun," Maria grumbled, and the little Ava blinked sleepily and rested her head on her mother's shoulder._

"_Water guns are for little kids," a high-pitched voice piped up, and a dark-haired boy walked into the room, Tess trailing behind him._

"_And you're not a little kid anymore, are you Skylar?" Liz asked, stifling a giggle at the indignant expression on the boy's face. _

"_Of course not! I'm seven!" And as if to prove his point, he held up seven fingers, five on one hand and two on the other._

_Tess ruffled her son's hair, then said to the others, "Isabel somehow managed to trick Alex and Kyle into helping her decorate the kitchen for our Christmas dinner. I think she wants to make the entire thing look like an frozen pond or some other equally fanatical idea. Skylar and I just barely escaped." Glancing over her shoulder, she added with a mischievous grin, "Don't go in there, you might not come out alive."_

"_Your sister is insane," Michael informed Max._

"_Yeah," Max agreed under his breath. "I know."_

"_I heard that!" Isabel's voice drifted in from the kitchen. "Don't make me come out there, Max."_

"_Uh oh." Another child, also around seven-years-old came in through the door leading to the kitchen, grinning as she said in a sing-song voice, "Uncle Max is in trouble with Mommy."_

"_You'll protect him from your Mommy, won't you Vilandra?" Liz requested._

"_I protect, too! I protect, too!" Ava announced, scrambling to get down from her mother's arms and hurrying in a wobbling manner to her father's side. "I protect Daddy. I fight anyone! And I win!"_

"_Nu uh! I get you first!" Zan declared, and shot a squirt of water at Ava. His aim was off, however, and the jet of water ended up hitting Max instead, causing his clothes to become dripping wet. _

_Max blinked, and Liz doubled over with laughter. Soon the others in the room were laughing as well, and Isabel, Alex, and Kyle slowly drifted in to see what the clamor was all about while Ava continued to stand protectively in front of her father and Zan struggled to get the aim correct on his squirt gun._

_Isabel rolled her eyes, Alex sighed, and Kyle grinned._

"_Merry Christmas," Liz managed to gasp through her giggles, and they all burst into hysterics once more._

"Liz?"

Liz snapped back to reality and stared at Max, her eyes wide with shock. "I... uh..."

"Are you alright?" Max asked, tawny eyes coming together in concern. He reached out with both hands then, as though to steady her, but she took a step away from him and shook her head, confusion obvious in her expression. He stopped, not really sure what to do, and pressed awkwardly, "Is something wrong?"

But then Liz smiled, her eyes softening. "Everything is fine," she said, looking past Max to Maria and Alex. They were both staring at her as well, clearly bewildered by her strange reaction. Kyle was hovering behind them, glancing in between her and Max. Michael had stepped closer to the group, taking a place beside Maria, while Isabel and Tess stood slightly to his left, nearer to Alex and Kyle.

"Everything is going to be just fine," Liz said again, and, somehow, she knew every word was true.


End file.
